


Something New for Me and You

by sockablock



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, I promise!, Incorporates arcs from ep 1-26, It's Not A Hallmark Movie, M/M, Meet-Cute, Molly wears a dress and you can deal with it, Movie Nights, Mutual Pining, Other, Plot! Oh god so much plot, Secret Santa, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Texting, action! battles! local law enforcement!, and they were roommates (oh my god), whos chekov whats a gun, widomauk kicks it off but EVERYONE gets tons of screentime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 226,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockablock/pseuds/sockablock
Summary: What do you get when you take an excitable blue tiefling, her dodgy human roommate, her quiet aasimar friend, her half-orc boyfriend,hisweird tiefling roommate, and mix them together with a nervous wizard and a lovably scruffy goblin?They aren't sure either, but they're willing to find out.(or: a modern AU where the M9 are young adults set loose in a big big city chock full of everyday annoyances, tons of magic, growing relationships, and an abundance of secrets.)





	1. Gleaming City Lights Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this fic, and thank you for giving it a shot!!  
> Ch. 1 features fine dining, 20 questions, wine, fjorester, and the threat of hypothermia

Caleb sighed, and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Then he fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket, ran a hand through his freshly-washed hair, and turned to the woman sitting on his right with a look of absolute dread.

“Please,  _why_  am I here, again?”

Jester reached over and straightened his lapel. “Because Fjord was really worried about this date being awkward, so he’s bringing along a friend,” she said. “And I couldn’t ask Yasha to come, since Molly’s basically her bother, and I couldn’t ask Beau to come, since she’s super in love with Yasha. Plus, Molly’s not her type.” Then Jester grinned broadly and poked Caleb in the chest. “But he’s  _definitely_  yours.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “ _Ja_ , I know you think that,” he muttered, “but _I_ thought I was here to keep you company. Not to actually find a significant other. Can’t Beau—"

“Do you  _really_  think Beau will be able to play nice on a date like this?”

Caleb didn’t hesitate. “No chance,” he mumbled.

Jester nodded. “So that’s why you’re here. Just try to have some fun! When was the last time you hung out with someone that wasn’t me or Nott or Beau or Yasha?”

There was a pause, and then he sighed. “A very long time, I suppose.”

“Exactly! You need more guy friends. Or,” she winked, “more _guy friends_.”

“Do I _really_?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “Besides, I knew you’d be huddled up in your apartment tonight anyways, and it’s so cold! Your walls are too thin, and you don’t have enough heating. At least this way, you’ll have warm food in your tummy, and warm leftovers to bring back to Nott.”

“I can make fire with my hands, Jester.”

“Can you make food like that, though?”

He deflated. “Alright, alright, you win. But know that I came here initially for you, _verstanden_?”

“Got it!” she grinned. “Now stop talking to me so I can check on my makeup.”

As Jester pulled out a small mirror and began to examine herself with a critical eye, Caleb looked around and tried to sort his thoughts out. The restaurant they currently sat in was fancier than he could afford to  _look_  at, much less dine in. It was probably Jester’s trust fund that had secured them this table, towards the side, where the lights were sufficiently low and gorgeous, where the exotic plants sheltered them from the other patrons, and the live band wasn’t too loud. Faint wisps of candlelight curled around them to add a certain… _je ne sais quoi_  to the atmosphere. Caleb definitely  _ne sais quoi_ , since this was more affluence than he’d seen in a lifetime. Plus, he barely remembered how to behave in normal society—much less  _high_  society. He prayed that Fjord and his plus-one would feel just as out of place, for solidarity’s sake.

He turned to Jester, who was closing her purse.

“What should I know about this Mollymauk person?”

She considered this. “Well, he’s a tiefling, like me. I’ve met him a few times before, and he’s really cool. He’s a singer at the same bar where Fjord works, and also Beau and Yasha—”

“The Fletching & Moondrop.”

“—yes, that one. And they’ve known each other for a couple years, and they’re roommates. But they probably aren’t, you know,  _best friends_  like you and me.”

Caleb cracked a smile at that. “Their loss, I suppose.”

Jester giggled. “So right! And, hmm…what else…? Oh, Molly says he isn’t magic like we are, but Fjord swears he can make things happen sometimes. And he is very fashionable.”

Caleb’s shoulders drooped. “He is? Will he try to talk to me about clothing? Jester, you had to pick and buy these clothes for me—which I still insist was unnecessary—and I know that the minute people find out that I…am partial to men, they ask me for tips and—”

Jester laughed and shook her head. “First of all,” she said, “I  _wanted_  to get you nice clothes, so you’d stop making excuses not to come with me to fancy parties. And second, you  _deserve_  it, Caleb! You always wear that tattered coat around and I know it’s very important to you, but sometimes you have to dress up a little! And I owe you big time, remember? You doing my schoolwork for me so I could let Fjord copy it is the reason why we even started talking to each other. And besides,” she added, “I’m sure Fjord gave Molly the rundown about you. He’ll probably know to avoid clothes-talk.”

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good,” he said. “Is there anything else I should know?”

And just as the words left his mouth, two figures began making their way over, guided by the maître d. One was obviously a half-orc, dressed in a sharp blue dinner jacket with his hair combed back. He gave Jester a little wave as they made eye contact, and blushed slightly.

The other…the other…

The other was a  _definitely_  a tiefling, whose curling horns were adorned with silver jewelry that gleamed in the low light. His skin was a smooth, light lavender, and he stood a few inches taller than Fjord. It took Caleb a second to realize that this was because—aside from the low-cut, onyx-colored evening gown, aside from the midnight-black and sequined shawl, aside from the glittering silver necklace draped across very well-defined collarbones, aside from all that—Molly was wearing a pair of very,  _very_  tall stiletto heels.

Caleb sank lower into his chair. His face was on fire. Jester leaned in.

“I forgot to mention,” she whispered  _beyond_  cheekily. “You should know that Molly is super- _duper_  hot. And he’s got more charisma than six bards in a rooftop club.” She gave him a quick pat on the arm. “Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great.”

And then, with one final smile at the host, Fjord and his plus-one sat down, and dinner began.  

\--------------------------------------

Molly took one look at the furiously blushing ginger seated across from him and thought:

_Oh, thank you, Jester, for bringing along this lovely piece of work._

They exchanged pleasantries, Jester and Fjord beaming all the way like lovestruck idiots. Then she gestured to her left and grinned, “And this is my friend! He’s technically your date tonight, Molly.”

There was a sudden flinch from his technical date. Molly got the idea that under the table, Jester had just kicked him in the leg.

“C-Caleb Widogast,” said Caleb Widogast, slightly hesitantly. “Er…it is nice to make your acquaintance.”

Molly stuck a hand out and opened his mouth to deliver a carefully-crafted introduction glowing with complimentary flourishes and unsubtle overtone of flirtatious teasing sure to get this delightful man in bed with him before the midnight.

But then he caught those dazzling, sky-blue eyes. For the briefest moment they stared at each other, gazes locked, before Caleb’s reddened face quickly looked away.

Molly’s mind shut down.

“Teamauk Mollyleaf,” he said, and froze, and immediately wanted to die. He could see Jester’s mouth drop, could hear Fjord make a small noise of astonishment on his left. He swore inwardly, corrected himself as smoothly as he could. “I meant, er, I meant Mollymauk Tealeaf. But, but my friends call me Molly.”

Caleb took his hand. “Am I one of those friends, Mister Mollymauk?”

Molly swore again. Was that charm, or hasty and oblivious banter? He couldn’t tell. His face was starting to heat up.

“I would hope by the end of the evening that you would be, Mister Caleb.”

Friendship? Friendship? Why was  _that_  coming into the equation? When Fjord had proposed a double date, Molly had thought that, at best, he’d spend the night with a nice-looking stranger—or at the very _least_ , get a free meal from Jester and make sure that hers and Fjord’s date went well. But this? But  _this_?

Luckily, just at that moment, a waiter came over and Jester launched into a lengthy list of requested wines and appetizers, sparing Molly from having to come up with anything else to say. When the man left, looking rather flustered, Fjord took charge of the conversation.

“So, how do you and Caleb know each other, again?” he asked Jester.

“Oh, it’s a great story!” she grinned. “He’s the librarian in my neighborhood, and one day he walked past while I was doing my homework and saw that I had a bunch of mistakes, so he sat down and started to help! And then it just sort of became a thing, you know, where he would help me out every week. And eventually I introduced him to my other friends, and he introduced me to his, and now we all hang out and watch movies and spend time together and stuff. That was a couple months ago, of course.”

“Well, that’s rather sweet,” Molly smiled, focusing in on Caleb. “You’re a librarian? Do you read a lot?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb nodded, and the blush faded slightly as he found safe footing. “I read quite a lot, actually. I enjoy books.”

“About what kinds of stuff?” Fjord asked.

“Mostly history and magic,” Caleb shrugged. “I, er, I was studying to be a wizard for some time.”

“Oh, he’s _so_ good at wizard stuff,” Jester volunteered instantly. “He’s  _amazing_ , he can do anything!”

“Really, anything?” Molly’s eyebrows went up. “Anything at all?”

Caleb’s face went red again. “Jester likes to exaggerate a bit,” he said, “I only really know the basics. But I am working on learning more.”

“ _Really_?” Fjord perked up. “Where are you thinking of learning? The Academy? ‘Cause I was actually thinking of trying to attend th—"

Caleb shook his head. “No, no, that is not the place for me.”

Fjord blinked, and tilted his head to the side. “How come, if I might ask?”

“Too…expensive,” Caleb murmured. “And I do not entirely agree with the faculty. But if you ever need help studying,” he added hastily, “or would like assistance on the entrance exams, I am happy to provide it for someone important to Jester.”

Fjord chuckled softly at that. “Thank you,” he nodded. “That’s a very nice offer.”

Jester turned to Molly, reeling him back into the conversation. “Tell Caleb about how you know Fjord!” she said. “You guys work at the same club, yes?”

He grinned. “Almost right, dear. The establishment itself is called the Fletching & Moondrop,” he explained, turning to Caleb, “you might’ve heard of it before? It’s downtown, overlooks the water, lovely place. But it’s actually set up as two separate clubs. The upper floors are for the more…discerning clientele, that’s the Moondrop part. Yasha’s the muscle there, and it’s where I sing. And then Fletch is downstairs, that’s the  _fun_  part, where Beau’s part of security and Fjord bartends. And I must say, he’s quite good. Nobody else has the flair, or the knack for pleasing guests.”

“Except for you,” Fjord snorted. “Molly’s one of the most famous singers in the city. Jester knows.”

Her giggle of agreement was laced with mischief. “More like  _infamous_ ,” she said, and waggled her eyebrows. Molly laughed, and Caleb nodded with the air of one who had no idea what was happening.

“I did not know this much about the bar,” he said slowly, “but that sounds like quite an experience. And it is nice to meet you as well. I have never known someone famous before.”

Molly chuckled. “I’m not _that_ famous, dear. Or, at least, I’m that famous when I’m running around town doing silly things with silly people. The real me likes to keep a lower profile.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you are here tonight, at this very fancy restaurant surrounded by very fancy people?”

Before Jester and Fjord could intervene, Molly shook his head and leaned in closer. “I don’t know,” he said. “Is that why you’re here as well?”

Caleb, to everyone’s surprise, gave a short laugh. His lips quirked up into a quick smile. “I suppose you have a point, Mister Mollymauk.”

And as the waiter arrived with their first round of extremely expensive appetizers, Molly decided then and there that he would hear that laugh again tonight, no matter what.

\--------------------------------------

Fjord and Jester steered the conversation as they tore through soup and salad, Molly chiming in every once in a while and Caleb’s attention desperately fixed on trying to figure out what it was he was eating, and how—if at all—he felt about a certain lavender tiefling.

Jester had been right about the attractiveness, though Caleb was worried about dwelling on that thought for too long. His “date” also definitely had charm, though not in the ways Caleb had expected. Molly, surprisingly, didn’t seem all that talkative, and only spoke when the others led. He didn’t ask intrusive questions, and had even stumbled a bit during their introductions. Perhaps Caleb’s definition of silver-tonguedness wasn’t quite up-to-date anymore. Later on, he would ask Jester. Maybe even Yasha. And speaking of…

“It’s funny how our friends are all connected, isn’t it?” Fjord asked between bites of some unidentified dish. “I can’t believe you know so many people from the Moondrop.”

“I still can’t believe you never figured out how fancy it was,” Jester added with a grin.

Caleb sighed. “I do not ask many questions,” he said, “and I admit that I am not very in tune with high society. But, er, I am glad that you, Mister Mollymauk, I am glad that you also know Beau and Yasha. They are good friends to me.”

“And to me,” Molly chuckled. “Well, Yasha is, anyway. You know, when she mentioned a scruffy wizard she’d met through Jester, I had no idea it was you.”

Caleb nodded. “And when she mentioned an old friend who was a singer, I did not know she was talking about you.”

“Like I said,” Molly beamed, “low profile.”

“Oh, oh my gods!” Jester turned towards him and waved a fork around excitedly. “Molly, you and Fjord should start coming to our movie nights! Oh, they’re so fun, and that way you can also meet Nott!”

“Nott?” Fjord began. “Who’s—”

Caleb, in an instant, had thrust a hand into his pocket and whipped out a wallet that looked like it was half made of duct tape, and half made of the prehistoric ancestor to leather. He carefully produced a strip of photographs, placed them gently down onto the table, and the gang all leaned in.

They saw a series of images depicting a scrawny young girl in baggy clothing that might have been Caleb’s. She had stringy, dark-green hair, and in some photos she wore the bottom half of a porcelain mask. But in others, Molly noted as he leaned in further, he could see her full face, complete with bright yellow eyes, green skin, jagged teeth, and—

“Nott’s a goblin?” he asked, and Caleb’s gaze hardened.

“She is wonderful,” he said. “She is my dearest friend.”

Molly opened his mouth, and Caleb braced himself for what would come next. But to his surprise, the tiefling just grinned brightly and nodded. “That’s great!” he said enthusiastically. “I’m glad you two have each other. The Moondrop’s performers are also…a bit unconventional, so it’s nice to see other people who don’t care about things like appearances. I knew Yasha liked you for a reason.”

Caleb blinked. He stared at Molly in bewilderment, though there was a faintly warm and fuzzy feeling now settling in his stomach. He managed a small smile.

“I am…glad to hear that, Mister Mollymauk.”

There was a moment, where the tiefling sat there in silence. Then his grin got even wider, and he lifted his drink and winked at the others. “Here’s to dear, unconventional friends, then,” he chuckled, and Jester and Fjord also joined in with a clink of their glasses.

Caleb took a sip. Then he tucked the photos away, and resumed eating.

\--------------------------------------

Jester and Fjord stood out in the hallway, pretending to wait on line for the restrooms. In truth, they had really excused themselves—leaving Molly and Caleb alone at the table in various states of sudden panic—to have a quick strategy meeting.

“There’s chemistry,” Jester sighed, rubbing her chin, “but I don’t get why nothing’s _happened_ yet.”

“I really thought Molly would be laying on the charm,” Fjord nodded in confusion. “This isn’t like him.”

“Maybe he’s already found someone?” Jester suggested.

“Oh, _believe_ me,” Fjord grumbled, “if he’d found someone, I’d have walked in on them already.”

“Hmm…and you’re _sure_ he said he’s looking for someone?”

Fjord sighed. “Molly’s a tough nut to crack. But he did mention once that he was sick and tired of getting tossed around rich people and he was tired of being arm candy, but then he did three shots and didn’t do anything but sing karaoke for the rest of the night, so I’m not sure. I think that’s a yes, in any case. I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t be trying harder. I mean, he seems to like Caleb, right?”

“Maybe he’s afraid of looking like a jerk?” Jester suggested. “Or maybe we need to give them more hints. Caleb is really smart, but he can also be pretty dumb sometimes.”

Fjord nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s try that.”

\--------------------------------------

Despite the clinking of silverware and ambient humming chatter, the silence at their table was deafening.

Jester and Fjord had just run off to the restrooms, muttering something about _fixing her dress_ _—just give us a moment, we’ll be back before you know it!_ —leaving Molly and Caleb by themselves to pick at their food and try awkwardly not to make too much eye contact. Molly had a feeling he knew why his friends had run off, and while he completely understood their motives, he also wished they’d have waited until after he bill was settled.

In the waiting tension, he fought for something to say. He settled on:

“So, er, Mister Caleb, have you been to this restaurant before?”

Caleb quickly glanced up. “No, er, I have not,” he said. “Why, have you?”

Molly shrugged. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. I might’ve, before, with someone or another at some point or another.” He tried for a grin. “I must’ve been too drunk to remember.”

Caleb stared into his plate. “Do you have frequent…entanglements, then?” he asked quietly. “That you are not able to remember who they were and where you went?”

“Oh, tons,” Molly shrugged. “It comes with the job, dear. You meet rich people, they try to impress you by taking you to fancy places.”

“I see,” muttered Caleb. “Your past partners have been wealthy?”

“Oh, beyond reason. And famous, usually.”

He fidgeted with his fork. “And you are experienced in, er, romantic endeavors.”

Molly laughed along to that. “I think  _they_  thought it was romantic,” he grinned, “but they should work on their definitions.”

The table fell silent again, and Molly kicked himself. Was that a good response? Gods, of course it wasn’t, what was he even _saying,_ what did that  _mean_ , definitions—

And then Jester and Fjord appeared through a sea of tables and white cloth, clothing mildly ruffled and faces just a bit flushed. Molly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank the gods,” he said. “I mean, er, thank the gods that there’s nothing wrong. Right?”

“Right,” Caleb echoed softly. “Or, er…no, wait—yes. Yes, that is right.”

Their stares drilled into the tabletop as Fjord and Jester sat down.

“Sorry about that,” said Jester. “The fashion crisis was dire.”

“I imagine it was,” Molly nodded, draping his elbows onto the table. “Especially since you needed Fjord to help you. And both of you look rather flustered now, was your situation that strenuous to fix?”

Fjord’s ears went a slightly darker shade of green. Jester gave Molly a pointed glare that was half-embarrassed, half-impressed. “It wasn’t anything we couldn’t do together,” she replied easily. “But now we are back, and we can talk about completely different things.”

She shot Fjord a meaningful stare. He coughed, and turned quickly to Caleb, then coughed again and asked, “So, er...is it just you and Nott in your…home?”

“Apartment,” Caleb supplied, “and yes. It is us two.”

“It’s _so_ cute,” Jester beamed. “And Nott says that Caleb’s a great roommate. Better than Frumpkin, anyway.”

“Frumpkin?” Molly raised an eyebrow.

“My cat,” Caleb explained, taking a small sip of wine.

“Frumpy-frumpy is really cute too,” Jester giggled. “And it’s so nice that you’ve got such a good friend _and_ roommate in Nott!”

Molly tilted his head to the side, blinked a few times at Jester. “Hey, you and Fjord are moving in soon, aren’t you?” he asked. “I think I vaguely recall being told that. And to look for a new bunk-buddy.”

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” Fjord chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, yet.”

“ _I’m_ worried about different stuff,” Jester sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Fjord, what if living together changes stuff about our relationship?”

“It might,” Fjord said gently. “We might get closer.”

“Aw,” Molly grinned as Jester’s heart imploded. “How adorable.”

“You and Fjord have a good relationship,” Caleb added. “You are close friends, that would only help,  _ja_?”

Jester recovered, and stuck her tongue out at him. “You’ve got a good point, but he’s not my  _friend_ , silly.”

“Of course,” he corrected. “Your boyfriend.”

Molly’s mouth opened, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them. “Are you, er, in the market for one of those?” he asked Caleb. “Boyfriends, I mean. Or, or any kind of significant other.” He mentally kicked himself. “Because, well, I know you’re here tonight, but…”

Caleb gave a small, semi-panicked shrug. “Er…maybe? I am… undecided.”

“He’s single!” Jester’s eyes had lit up, and Caleb’s went right back to the tablecloth. “ _Super-_ single. He’s just bad at words.”

“It’s alright,” Molly chuckled. “I am too, sometimes.”

“Mol, you aren’t with anybody at the moment either, are you?” Fjord added, extremely gracelessly. “Isn’t that why you said you’d come with me tonight?”

Molly’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m coming to support _you,_ dear. But, er,” he added hastily, “if there happened to be another interested party…I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Caleb sank into his chair. “Oh,” he said quietly.

“I, er, I mean if the other party was  _really_  interested.” On the inside, Molly kicked himself again. “You know, I wouldn’t want to make things weird. At all. In any way. Avoiding _all_ weirdness—"

“Molly’s a great person,” Fjord cut in, trying to nod supportively. “If I didn’t have Jester, I’d definitely have my eye out.”

“And Caleb is super nice!” Jester chimed, in a little too loudly. “Plus he’s caring, and very, _very_ smart, and funny! I’m sure he’d be just wonderful to get to know, and he’d also be the _perfect_ —”

Caleb shot up to his feet.

There was a moment’s pause, where they all stared at him in shock; then he seemed to shake his head, his eyes going wide with realization, and before anybody else could say anything, he shoved his chair roughly against the table.

“Excuse me,” he muttered. “I need some air.”

He grabbed his jacket and marched away, towards a set of double glass doors that led out onto the balcony at the side. He almost collided with a waiter, before reaching the handles, yanking them open, and being swallowed up by the darkness beyond.

For a moment, they just stared at the point where he had vanished. Jester put her fork down. Fjord fidgeted slightly.

And then, with a loud, drawn-out sigh, Molly reached for his shawl. “I’ll be back,” he said. “And you two, knock it off, please? I appreciate what you’re doing, but  _honestly_. Just focus on each other. I’ll handle this.”

And then he stood up, and went out to follow Caleb.

\--------------------------------------

There weren’t any other couples out on the balcony, and it was honestly a wonder why the doors had been unlocked. Tonight was  _freezing._ As Molly shivered and shut the door behind him, he vaguely remembered something about a forecast of snowfall. Tieflings ran hot, but not hot enough for  _this_ , and he was starting to regret coming out in a sleeveless dress and a gauzy shawl. But he clenched his teeth and drew his wrap close and his heels clicked softly across the treated wood as he made his way over towards the lone figure at the edge, silhouetted against the twilight, gazing down at the gleaming city lights below.

Molly leaned his arms against the railing, a few feet away from Caleb, and stared up at the moon.

“It’s a beautiful night, I agree, but if you’d wanted to come here and admire it, you only had to ask.”

Caleb gave a soft snort and shook his head. “I am sorry,” he murmured. “Jester is not always the most tactful, and I think the sudden talk of relationships scared me a bit. Especially when they were clearly trying to set me up with you.”

Molly, surprised by this honesty, raised an eyebrow. “Why is that, dear? Am I…not to your liking?”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “ _Nein_ , no, not at all.  _Scheisse_ , I mean, you are. Just that...” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I phrased that poorly. I just meant that I didn’t want…er…”

He paused, and found the words.

“I am a garbage person, Mister Mollymauk. I am not worth much, and I cannot offer anybody much. But you are beautiful, and talented, and well-known. You are very clearly out of my league. I did not want to sit there and listen to Jester and Fjord speak as if we ever had a chance of being together.”

Molly blinked. And then he blinked again. And then, he started to laugh.

Caleb whipped around, face pale and eyes confused. “Why…what is so funny, about that?”

Molly leaned into his elbows, put his chin against his palm, and gazed out onto the rooftops far, far below.

“Would you like to know something about me?”

Caleb raised an uncertain eyebrow. He decided to play along. “ _J_ _a_ , sure.”

Molly swept his hand across the distant skyline. “I've lived in this city most my life," he sighed. “I've known every rich bastard, every desperate heiress, every self-important millionaire that's ever walked through these streets. And they've got money, and they've got power, and they've certainly got the looks. And usually, when they come asking for some fun, some company, I'm all in. I’ve _been_ all in. But sometimes…I get tired, Mister Caleb. And recently, I've  _been_  tired. Tired of being chased, and if I'm being honest, tired of doing the chasing."

For a few seconds there was only quiet, softened by faraway sounds of busy traffic and the eternal thrum of city life. And then Caleb spoke:

“Yet just now, you came chasing after me. Why?”

Molly turned and met those clear blue eyes. This time, they didn’t look away.

"Because you’re not some rich bastard trying to woo me,” he sighed. “You’re not some annoying socialite trying to bend my ear. You’re just Jester’s friend, who is good at magic, has movie nights, and lives with his cat and a little goblin girl in a—no offense—shitty apartment. Maybe you are, as you say, garbage. But nothing you’ve done so far makes me believe you. Without knowing anything about my reputation, or about my past, you seem to like me. Or at least you like talking to me, for  _me_. And that’s not something I always get. But it’s something that I’d quite like to keep.”

“We barely know each other,” Caleb murmured.

“We could change that,” Molly returned. “If…er…if that is alright.”

Caleb’s mouth quirked up into that tiny grin again.

“That would be nice,” he said.

“Bloody brilliant,” breathed Molly. “Thank the gods. I’m really not sure what I’m doing, here.”

“Neither do I," Caleb chuckled. "I suppose we can figure this out together.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Caleb’s smile grew. “But, er, but perhaps we could pick somewhere less…high maintenance, next time? I am not entirely…comfortable in a restaurant as fancy as this.”

“I imagine it was Jester who chose this, then?” Molly laughed. “From what Fjord’s told me, I assume she has—”

He broke off as a sneeze shook his body. He sniffled slightly, and rubbed his arms, and Caleb blanched and instantly shrugged off his jacket.

“ _Scheisse_ , I am sorry for not realizing, you must be  _freezing_ , Molly. Here, here, take my coat.”

Molly almost protested, but then a chilly breeze blew past and he sneezed again. He gratefully nodded, and let Caleb drape the jacket around his shoulders. And then, to his surprise, the man did not pull away. Instead he wrapped an arm around Molly, carefully closed the gap between them.

“It will be warmer this way," he murmured.

It was too dark to see, but Caleb’s face must have been blazing red. Molly’s cheeks were beginning to heat up as well. Maybe that was just from the cold. Or, maybe not.

“Thank you, dear,” he said, and then realized something. “Wait. You called me Molly,” he said.

Caleb blinked. “Did I? Oh, er, I am sorry—”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Like I said before, I want us to be friends. And my friends call me Molly, right?”

“Right,” Caleb echoed softly. “But we are not quite friends yet—”

Molly sighed, gave Caleb a faint grin. “Please?” he tried again. “Please, if I asked nicely?”

Caleb chuckled softly, then nodded. “Alright, Mi-Mollymauk. You must drop the ‘mister’ as well, then.”

“If you say so...Caleb.”

They were silent for a few beats. And then Caleb’s soft voice hugged Molly’s ear.

“Thank you, um, for coming out to chase me.”

“Of course,” laughed Molly. “Thank you for letting me chase you.”

He felt the warm hand on his shoulder squeeze slightly, and his heart soared.

\--------------------------------------

“It’s been twenty minutes,” Fjord observed, offering a bit of salad to Jester.

She grinned, and passed him a piece of chicken. “Yep! They’re in their own little world, now.”

He took a thoughtful bite, then put his fork down and raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright,” he said, “tell me the truth. We’ve been on plenty of dates before, and I’d like to think all of them went well. So why did you  _really_  want me to bring Molly tonight? Were you _actually_ worried about things getting awkward, or did you just want to introduce him to Caleb?”

She gave him a grin that would have been sly if it hadn’t been so shit-eating. “ _Maybe_ it was the second one. Maybe just a little bit.”

“Unbelievable!” He leaned back in his chair and shook his head, but there was still a smile creeping across his face. “You really never stop playing matchmaker, do you?”

Jester pouted. “It was just so  _sad_ , Fjord! When you told me that Molly was feeling lonely and used and he couldn’t stand the attention anymore, I had to do something! I’ve seen what happens when fame and love get mixed together, and I didn’t want Molly to end up that way! And then I thought,  _oh, I know somebody else who’s great and who also needs some company,_  and he’s totally not rich and famous, like the  _opposite_ , and it just clicked in my brain.”

Fjord chuckled, gave a nod. “You’re pretty selfless, Jes.”

She beamed, and laughed along. “I know, I know, I’m pretty great. I just can’t wait to see if anything happens tonight.”

“Do you really think anything will?” he asked. “I agree that they need to meet different people, but what makes you so sure  _they’ll_  work out? I mean, from what you said, they’re  _such_  different people. Molly’s…flamboyant, used to…fine living and rich company. Caleb’s reserved, lowkey, and I think he wears the same coat in every picture of him you’ve ever shown me. Molly might be a handful for that one. Especially if they lack…similarities.”

Jester giggled. “I don’t know about that,” she said softly. “I think they might have a bit more in common than you think.”

He shrugged, defeated by her romantic prowess. “If you say so, Jes. You’re the expert.”

She nodded, and under the table, poked Fjord’s leg with the tip of her shoe. “Oh, I _definitely_ am, Oskar. Give it a week. They’ll be stuck together like glue.”

\--------------------------------------

“Oh,” said Caleb, blinking and looking up, “the snow is starting.”

Molly considered the tiny white flakes now lazily spiraling down around them.

“So it is.”

Caleb glanced at Molly, and then at the doors to the restaurant, where warm light and distant chatter leaked out onto the balcony.

“Should we go inside?” he asked. “You must be quite cold.”

Molly shook his head, turned towards Caleb. Their faces stood inches apart. “Maybe in a minute,” he whispered. “I think I’m alright, for now.”

Caleb studied Molly’s eyes for a few more moments, and then nodded slowly. “I think I understand,” he murmured back. “Okay. A few more minutes.”

And, for a few more minutes they stayed, watching the snow fall together, from up on the rooftop, over the twinkling city skyline below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading! I hope you'll stick around! I'm having a TON of fun and there's a LOT planned ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you have some fun prompts or just want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all!!


	2. The Last Song of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: emotions, group chat shenanigans, financial difficulties, copious amounts of singing, and an unironic use of A-ha's _Take on Me_
> 
> ( **EDIT:** this chapter now has art!!! It was done by the FABULOUS [@sameshork](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/), who drew [this lil thing of the ending scene](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/post/180788184791/and-as-the-rest-of-the-group-ended-the-song) and ruined my soul with happiness for 800 hours, y'all)

Caleb shut the door and fumbled slightly with his keys, while also balancing a rather large plastic bag of leftovers in his arms. Eventually, he managed to set the food down carefully on the ground, then took a moment to wipe his feet on their welcome mat. It read, in faint brown letters:

_Nein._

Nott had found it a year ago, buried under a pile of random junk in the thrift store down the street. It had become a permanent fixture in their home ever since.

Caleb slipped his shoes off and went to unbutton his jacket, and then remembered that he wasn’t wearing it anymore.

“ _Scheisse_ ,” he muttered, “Molly still has it.”

“Has what?” Nott asked.

Caleb looked up, and a pair of bright yellow eyes glowed back at him from the approximate area of their kitchen. But rather than flee in terror, or cower in shock, Caleb simply flicked his wrist. Four globules of light blossomed up around him and drifted out to the corners of their tiny apartment, faintly illuminating the rooms around them and revealing Nott, sitting on the kitchen table, holding Frumpkin in her lap. There was a faint  _meow_  from said cat, which Caleb decided to interpret as a greeting.

“What does he still have?” Nott asked again. “Oh, and welcome home. Nothing exploded while you were gone.”

This elicited a faint smile. “That’s good,” Caleb nodded, “I always like to hear that is the case.” He started undoing the buttons on his vest, and added, “I was referring to my jacket. Mollymauk still has it.”

Nott instantly raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Why’d he steal your jacket?”

“No, no, he didn’t steal it.” Then Caleb blushed slightly, and his fingers slipped. “I just, er, I just lent it to him.”

Nott’s other eyebrow went up. “Oh, _no_. Caleb, come on, _no_.”

“What is your ‘oh no,’ what does that mean?”

Nott leaned back. She lifted Frumpkin up by the scruff and over his protesting meows said, “Gosh, kitty, Caleb really must be in love.”

He spluttered. This vest would not be coming off anytime soon. “That’s not true,  _spatz_. That’s not the case at all.”

“Frumpkin, I think he’s lying to us.”

“I am not,” he said, though he didn’t sound as affronted as he meant to. “This dinner was a favor to Jester. Nothing else. Not to find a…a significant other, not to take advantage of her hospitality, and _certainly_ not to meet Mister Mollymauk. Er, I mean, to meet Mollymauk.”

Nott shook her head and tutted. “Did you hear that?” she asked Frumpkin. “ _Mister._ That means he wants to impress him.” She turned towards Caleb. “Is this Mister Molly guy fancy, then? Is that why you’re all manners-y now?”

He finally managed to shrug the vest off and hung it on the coat rack. There were rules for storing such finely-made clothing, but at the moment he couldn’t remember a single one.

“He is fancy,” Caleb conceded, grabbing the leftovers and making his way into the kitchen, “he’s a singer at a well-known club.”

“Which one?”

“The Fletching & Moondrop. Same as Beau and Yasha. And Fjord, of course.”

She nodded. “In the fancy part, probably?”

Caleb sighed. “Why did everybody but me know that their club had such a gleaming reputation?”

“Because Yasha and Beau work there,” Nott grinned. “Jester knows everything. You don’t pay attention.”

“And how did  _you_  know?”

She shrugged. “I used to sneak in and steal stuff from the rich folk. But now I’m reformed and a valuable member of society and I only steal when I need to. Or when you ask me to. Or when I can’t help myself.”

“Truly, a model citizen. I am impressed.”

She beamed. Her jagged, crooked teeth gleamed like ivory under the faint light of Caleb’s globules. He absently leaned over and pinched her cheek.

“So other than the fact you’re in love now,” Nott continued as he pulled away, “how was the double date? Did Fjord and Jester make out? Did you bring me back leftovers?”

He pushed the plastic bag towards her. Her eyes lit up, and she started yanking out containers.

“There’s still some chicken,” he began, “and salad, but I imagine you won’t want that. There’s also fish of some kind, save that for Frumpkin, and, oh, I see you’ve found the beef—”

Her cheeks bulged. The table was now covered in scraps, and Frumpkin poked a loose tomato with his nose.

“Sorry,” she said, slightly muffled. “I was really hungry.”

He smiled. “ _Bon appetit, spatz_. Sorry to make you wait so long for dinner. I thought I would be home by ten but—”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a midnight snack.” She shoveled a forkful of chicken into her mouth. “And it sure beats not having any dinner. Plus this stuff is  _real_  fancy. It’s going to make pizza tomorrow look like peasant food.”

Caleb blinked. “Pizza tomorrow? Why are we getting pizza tomorrow?”

She frowned. “We always get pizza on movie night, right? Is it—can we not afford it? Because I can go steal some from somewhere, I’m sure.”

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “No, no, no need, I just forgot it was our turn to host. We should be alright. I mean, I am sure Kosh was kidding when he threatened to cut our power.”

Nott nodded loyally. “Definitely,” she said. “Absolutely, probably.”

“Great. Did you pick out a movie, yet?”

“Actually, I let Jester—”

Caleb pushed his chair back and groaned. “We are  _not_  watching  _Tusk Love_  again,” he cried. “I swear to the gods I will torch the television.”

“You won’t,” said Nott in a singsong voice. “We can’t afford another one.”

He sighed in defeat. “Why would you let Jester do that? She does not need another enabler, after Fjord.”

“I like her,” said Nott, “and I couldn’t think of anything. And I knew you’d want to watch  _The Courting of the Crick_ —”

“I would _not_ —”

“And I refuse to watch a romantic film that’s going to teach me something. So  _Tusk Love_  it is.”

“Are you even old enough to have an opinion on...on...on smutty movies?”

“Definitely,” said Nott. She pushed a plate of salad towards Caleb. “Can you put that in the fridge?” she asked. “And make more ice? The layer from this morning is melting now.”

He accepted the tray and made his way over to their unplugged refrigerator, dragging along a Dancing Light as he went. And while he rubbed his hands together and started concentrating on a localized, low-power Ray of Frost, Nott spoke up again.

“So, you didn’t answer my question from before,” she said. “ _Did_  Mollymauk fall in love with you?”

He snorted. “I doubt it. He is a nice fellow, but we barely know each other. I think we are just becoming acquaintances, really.”

“Did you get his phone number?”

“I do not use my phone much,  _spatz_.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to start?”

He sighed. “It’s better for our budget if I didn’t. Besides, yours has been fine for both of us, hasn’t it?”

“That’s true. Hey, is Molly coming to movie night? Isn’t he Jester’s friend now? And Fjord’s? Nevermind, he’s  _definitely_  coming to movie night.”

Caleb, face hidden by the fridge door, blushed. “Maybe,” he said. “I suppose we will wait and see.”

“I wanna meet him,” said Nott. “I need to make sure he’s good.”

“And what would you do if he was not?”

“Kill him,” she said, with complete nonchalance.

Caleb stood up, shutting the fridge behind him. “Please don’t do that,” he sighed. “I don’t want to deal with the police. I’m sure Jester would be devastated. And…I would prefer if you did not.”

She grinned. “You really  _do_  love him.”

Caleb rubbed at his eyes and gave her one last half-hearted sigh. “I’m going to bed,  _spatz_. You try and get some sleep as well, alright?”

She gave him a salute. “No promises.”

There was a pause, and then Caleb chuckled softly. “Well,” he nodded, “I suppose that is good enough.”

\--------------------------------------

The second they got home—Molly belligerently refusing to answer a single one of Fjord’s prying questions during the entire ride back—he shut himself into his bedroom and leaned against the door.

Their apartment was never what Molly’s “guests” expected, especially since Fjord also lived there, but he tended to think that they’d really done rather well for themselves. They had plenty of space, a lovely view of the waterfront, two bedrooms, a bath, a proper kitchen, all quite commendable in Molly’s eyes. And Fjord’s, who had grown up moving crates at below minimum wage in the docks of a distant city.

Plus, their home had been furnished by Molly’s ever-rotating cycle of deep-pocketed suitors, so it was not only well-decorated, but also extremely gaudy. He loved it. Fjord didn’t, but never complained.

In the privacy of his room, Molly wiggled out of his dress and into a bathrobe. Then he took a moment to consider the jacket that Caleb had given him. It was tan, extremely well-made, and had kept him warm in a number of ways this evening. He laid it out carefully on the back of a chair, before throwing himself into his sheets and pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

There were a few rings. Then:

“Hello?”

Molly beamed. “Yasha! Darling, how are you?”

There was a pause from the other end of the line. And then a long sigh.

“Mollymauk, it is one in the morning.”

He flipped over onto his stomach and started twirling his hair. “And what?” he asked. “I can’t call my favorite lady in the entire world at one in the morning? My best woman? My dearest friend? The light of my life—”

“You only make phone calls when you are drunk,” said Yasha. “Are you drunk?”

Molly rolled his eyes, and then forgot that Yasha couldn’t see him. “I’m not drunk, dear. Not even tipsy. I just wanted to tell you that I’ve met the love of my life, and that I’m changing my last name now.”

There was another long pause. “Are you  _sure_  you are sober?”

He sighed. “Peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Sally sells seashells by the seashore. Wizened old wizards hold wiggling wild wands—”

“Alright, alright, I believe you. Who are you talking about? Is it another bar patron? You know how those always end.”

Molly shook his head. “No, no, dear, not at all! It’s someone I just had the most  _wonderful_  date with, at the Triumph Chime.”

“But it’s not a bar patron?” Yasha sounded confused. “That’s a very nice place for a date, Molly.”

“Come now, come now, don’t tell me Jester didn’t  _tell_  you?!”

“Tell me what?”

“I had a double date tonight, with her and Fjord and one of her friends! One of your friends, actually.”

Molly counted down on his fingers as he waited for Yasha to understand.

“ _Beau_?!”

Molly almost choked. “No, _gods_ no,” he spluttered. “No, _fuck,_ Yasha, it was with  _Caleb_. Caleb Widogast?”

“...Caleb.”

“Yes, dear.”

“You went to the Triumph Chime with  _Caleb_?”

“Yes, dear.”

"You went to the  _Triumph Chime_  with Caleb?"

"Yes, dear."

“And...and you’re in love with Caleb?”

“ _Yes_ , yes, is it the late hour? You’re usually much quicker on the—”

“Excuse me,” said Yasha, cutting him off, “I’ve got to go.”

And then, before he could even respond, the line went dead.

“Hello? Yasha? Hello?”

Molly looked at his screen. It was dark. He sighed, and put his phone down on the covers next to him, and stared up at the ceiling for a minute or two. And then his cell started buzzing. He quickly grabbed it, and hit  _answer_.

“Mollymauk?”

“Yes, Yasha?”

“I just called Jester to make sure.”

“And?”

There was no hesitation this time.

“I’m happy for you.”

Molly fought the wide grin threatening to split his face in two, and lost. “Thank you, dear.”

“Does he like you back?”

“I have no idea.”

Molly could almost picture Yasha nodding solemnly as she made a loud huffing sound and said, “Alright then. I suppose we’ve got some work to do, then.”

Molly laughed. “Thank you, dear. Whatever did I do to deserve you?”

“You can pay me back in that really good jerky they sell at that fancy supermarket.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“See it later,” answered Yasha. “I know you’re not singing tomorrow night, but there’s still all-day rehearsal, and I know how bad you are at waking up.”

Molly put his arm over his eyes and grinned. “Alright, alright, Mother. I’m going to bed. I’ll talk to you at work?”

“Bright and early.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I love you, dear.”

There was a soft laugh on the other end of the line. “I love you too, Mollymauk. Now go away.”

He hung up and pulled his bathrobe off. Then he crawled under the covers, and sighed. He must have eventually dozed off, but in the hours before he did, he kept glancing at the tan jacket in the corner, and kept thinking about a certain head of fiery hair, and a certain pair of dazzling blue eyes. 

\--------------------------------------

**Jester created the new group chat: “TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO”**  
_7 members: Jester, Beau, Yasha, Caleb, Fjord, Molly, and you_

Today 12:13 PM

Jester changed her nickname to “(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*”  
Jester changed Beau’s nickname to “Drunkmonk”  
Jester changed Yasha’s nickname to “Babebarian”  
Jester changed Nott’s nickname to “SheSoBrave”  
Jester changed Fjord’s nickname to “Seaman”  
Jester changed Molly’s nickname to “Lavender Thunder”  
Jester changed Caleb’s nickname to “Gayleb”

You changed your nickname to “NottSoBrave”

**Drunkmonk:** aight i just got 90 notifications and nobody’s even said anything yet  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** shut up Beau this is important  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** WELCOME TO MOVIE NIGHT!  
**Babebarian:** it’s noon  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** WELCOME TO MOVIE NOON  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** fjord and molly you are now part of a very time-honored tradition of ours  
**Drunkmonk:** we’ve been doing this for a month  
**NottSoBrave:** welcome and caleb says welcome too  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** anyways this is for planning tonight we are going to caleb and nott’s and we are going to watch tusk love 8PM and pizza any questions  
**Seaman:** why is my nickname seaman  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** you are a man of the sea  
**Lavender Thunder:** i concur and thank you for inviting me to your movie night!  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** its my honor  
**Seaman:** oskar would have been better  
**NottSoBrave:** @jester caleb wants to know why his nickname is gayleb  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** because he is gay and is never going to open this chat to change it  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “point taken”  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** okay anyway is everybody good with this plan then?

Nott put down her phone and turned to Caleb. “This means you have Molly’s number now, doesn’t it?” she asked. “Now you can text him.”

He sighed and tapped the handlebar of the shopping cart nervously as they moved through the snack aisle of the Broad Barn, Nott occasionally leaning out of her perch in the toddler’s compartment to grab a bag of chips or a package of candy. They already had three boxes of popcorn kernels and four bottles of soda. Caleb, on the inside, was fearing for his nearly-empty wallet.

“I don’t know if I should, yet,” he muttered. “Isn’t it underhanded that I got it from somebody else? Shouldn’t I have asked for it by myself?”

“I dunno,” said Nott, casually slipping a chocolate bar into the pocket of her oversized hoodie. “Why didn’t you, before?”

“I was too afraid.”

“So this works great! Now you have it, and you don’t need to ask.”

He sighed. “Perhaps. But...but maybe I should wait for Molly to call me first?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, somehow managing to make the gesture supportive. “He seems like the type that would, anyway. Hey, can we get these too?” she pointed at a string of licorice.

“Put those in your sleeves if you like,” said Caleb, and steered them towards the toiletries section. “We need soap—don’t make that face, Yasha and Jester will kill me if I don’t clean up—and that means our snack budget is smaller now. Especially since our electric bill is overdue, and it’s winter, so we need as much as we can for heating.”

“I thought we were saving plenty by never using the lights and unplugging the fridge,” Nott muttered.

“Magic can only save so much,” Caleb sighed. “I do not want to know what would happen if I tried to use a Thunderwave to charge your phone. And I still cannot get more hours at the library,” he added dejectedly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around,” Nott said loyally. “They’ll realize any second how smart and hardworking and organized and on-time you are.”

He sighed again. “Let us hope. Come on, now, I think we have enough snacks. And I still need to do a deep clean of the apartment.”

“You’ve never done that before,” Nott pointed out. “Why now?”

A faint blush crept across Caleb’s cheeks. “No reason. I just want to be hospitable.”

Nott glanced down at her phone. Then she looked up and gave Caleb the cheekiest grin he had ever seen on her face before. “You’re doing it for Lavender Thunder, aren’t you?”

He almost choked. “ _Excuse_ me? For _who_?”

“That’s the nickname Jester gave to Molly. Weren’t you listening when I read them out loud?”

“Apparently not,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” she leaned over and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I’m sure you won’t have to call him that when he comes over. And, if you want, I’ll even help you clean.”

\--------------------------------------

The group all arrived at once, having carpooled together with Fjord as the driver in his beat-up station wagon. This was mildly terrifying for Caleb, because he had only  _just_  shoved the air freshener under the kitchen sink and only  _just_  managed to kick the loose bags of cat food to the side and only  _just_  finished slipping on a semi-decent shirt before he heard a knock. And then several more knocks, as Jester muscled her way to the front.

He opened the door, and they all filed in. Fjord entered first, shaking Caleb’s hand and thanking him for hosting them in that smooth, twangy accent. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, and came bearing a family-sized bag of Cheetos. Jester arrived next, waving the  _Tusk Love_  DVD with one hand and throwing a hug around Caleb with the other. Beau and Yasha followed, greeting him much more calmly, Yasha carrying a six-pack of soda and Beau with a DVD player in her arms. And then, at the rear, was Mollymauk.

At least his outfit was more tame this time—the long knitted sweater covered his upper-body well, but Caleb had the distinct impression that jeans should not be that tight. Then he realized that they were leggings.

“Welcome, everybody,” he said, pointedly not making eye contact with Molly for fear of self-combustion. “I am glad you all got here safe.”

“Your landlord sucks,” said Fjord. “He was glaring at us as we came up.”

“He’s the worst,” Nott agreed. “You’re Fjord, right? Jester’s boyfriend?”

He preened slightly at this title, and stuck a hand out. “Nice to meet you. Nott?”

She took his hand with only mild-suspicion. “That’s me. This is my house.”

“I’m Molly,” said Molly, leaning out from behind Fjord. “Nice to meet you as well.”

Nott did not accept his hand, but did give him a slight nod. “So  _you’re_  Molly,” she said. “Alright.”

Said tiefling raised an eyebrow. “Is…is everything alright?”

“Let’s get set up,” Caleb said quickly. “The lights are already off, for movie reasons, but I can make some if we need it. Could you put the snacks on the coffee table? And, er, Beau, I’ll come give you a hand with the DVD player.”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb had a slightly tattered sofa, and an armchair next to it to form an “L” shape. Then the coffee table was nestled into that bend, and behind that the TV was positioned on top of a _very_ tall stack of books, at an angle so that all could see it. Yasha took the chair; Beau immediately moved to Yahsa’s left, lounging on the armrest and swinging a leg over the armrest of the sofa next to her. Caleb sat to Beau’s right, and Nott sat on the back of the sofa by his head. And then Molly had plopped down next to Caleb, and with the added bodies of Jester and Fjord—nearly on top of one another at the other end of the couch—they were _extremely_ close.

“Mister Mollymauk,” Caleb murmured as the tiefling’s warm body pressed against his.

Molly raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I thought we agreed to be a bit less formal, around one another? I imagine this distance is as casual as it gets.”

Caleb managed a tiny grin. “We did,” he agreed quietly. “But it’s also kind of fun when it’s just me and you, isn’t it?”

Molly cracked a wide smile. “So it is, Mister Caleb. So it is.”

“Shut up,” Beau complained loudly. “The movie’s starting.”

Molly rolled his eyes and stopped talking, but gave Caleb one last sheepish grin before turning away. After a second, Caleb forced himself to fix his gaze back towards the television. He wordlessly accepted the bowl of popcorn from Nott, passing it to Beau after taking a handful for himself.

And then the words _Darrington Films Presents_  appeared on the screen, and his attention went to the opening scenes of Tusk Love.

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, Oskar,” Jester mouthed softly along with Guinevere, “how very nice to meet you. Will you be in this area for long?”

“No, miss,” grinned Fjord, easily falling into the role under Jester’s enthusiastic urging. “I’m afraid the folk around here aren’t as kind as you are to people like me.”

“People like you?” Jester asked as Guinevere’s soft features curled into a confused smile. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“Well, you know. People who aren’t...people.” Fjord said, sighing.

Beau threw herself off the side of Yasha’s chair, bridging the gap between the sofa and almost launching herself into Caleb’s lap, who jumped slightly with a start. “This writing is trash,” she groaned, covering her eyes. “I can’t believe we have to watch it again.”

“ _Shhhhh_ ,” hissed Molly, face glued to the grainy TV. “This is a masterpiece of fiction.”

“Yasha, back me up here.”

“Hush,” said Yasha softly. “This next part is my favorite.”

“Hang on,” said Fjord as Oskar suddenly turned around. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Jester asked with slightly too much feigned concern. “What is it?”

“It...it sounds like wolves.”

“ _Wolves_?” Jester threw her arms around Fjord. “Oh, no, please! Oskar, what do we do?”

“Get behind me, Guinevere. I can protect us. I will—”

The TV screen fizzled, and went dark.

For a moment, the gang just sat there in stunned silence.

“What the shit,” said Beau, the first to recover. “What…did  _I_  do that?”

Caleb had stiffened in his seat, and now the mild warmth of Molly’s side and the fabric of the sofa was melting away. He quickly glanced over at the heater in the corner and, with a sinking stomach, realized that it had suddenly stopped whirring.

The power was out.

“Drat,” muttered Nott, getting up and walking over to the television. “The dumb thing must be broken again.”

Fjord stood up and went to follow her. “Here,” he said, pulling out his phone. “We can use this as a flashlight.”

“This may also help,” said Yasha, clapping her hands together. A sphere of bright light suddenly drifted into the air around them, hovering around Nott’s head.

“I’m gonna look for the light switch,” sighed Beau. “I can’t see shit right now.”

“Fjord, let me help,” said Jester, scrambling off the couch, “I can at least hold the phone—”

And amid the hustle and bustle of all his friends leaping into action, under their conversation and nose, Caleb heard a nagging voice creeping at the back of his mind.

It said:

_Of course your landlord would cut the power. Why wouldn’t he, when you can’t even make the bills on time? Now you’ve ruined the night for your friends. Did you dare to think you wouldn’t? Why would you, you piece of—_

He felt a warm hand grazed his shoulder. As the world melted back into focus, Caleb realized that his breathing had quickened, his fists had clenched and, even stranger than that, he was shaking.

But it wasn't from fear. It was anger. At Kosh, at the television, at his ridiculous lack of funds and at himself for ruining this night for his friends.

He risked a glance to his left and saw a pair of bright, ruby eyes, glowing in the darkness, staring back at him with a furrowed brow. Behind Molly, the others were still talking loudly, trying to figure out what was going on. Fjord had crouched down next to Nott behind the TV and was now inspecting it with a frown. Jester stood over them with the flashlight and to the side, Yasha was helping the now-blind Beau in finding a light switch.

“Are you alright?” Molly murmured. “You looked like you were...spacing out a bit.”

Caleb nodded.

“Can you speak?”

“I can,” he responded. There was a sharp edge to his words.

“What happened?” Molly asked gently.

“Electrical bill was overdue,” he muttered. “Kosh must’ve stopped the power.”

Molly nodded. “Do you want to solve that problem now? Do you want me to go talk to him?”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “No, no, I do not want to deal with that now.”

“Alright then, Caleb. Is there anything you  _do_  want?”

He could begin to feel himself returning. “I want to make sure Beau doesn’t try to turn the lights on,” he sighed. “I do not want them to know the electricity is gone.”

Molly nodded again. “Alright, I might be able to help. Can I try something?”

Caleb blinked. “What...what do you mean?”

This time Molly gave him a faint grin. “Trust me,” he whispered. “I’ve got a great way to distract people, and keep the fun going all at the same time

He squeezed Caleb’s shoulder, and felt him untense further. He took this as his cue, and pulled away, and stood up on the sofa.

“Hey, everybody!” he called excitedly. “Don’t bother with the TV. Caleb and I had a great idea.”

“What’s that?” Jester asked, glancing over. “Because I think we can fix—”

Molly shook his head quickly. “Nah,” he said. “This’ll be much simpler.”

“What is it, then?” Nott asked. “Are we changing apartments to finish the movie?”

“Nope!” Molly beamed, and stretched his arms out in a grand gesture. “Even better. We’re all going to get into Fjord’s car, and we’re going to go sing karaoke!”

There was a brief pause. Then Jester grinned enormously. “Can I pick the first song?” she asked.

"You can pick  _all_  the songs, dear."

Fjord glanced at Molly, and then back at Jester, whose smile was threatening to blind them all.

“I’m in,” he said.

“Me too,” Beau said immediately. “I hate this movie.”

“I enjoy singing,” Yasha volunteered.

“I’m a great singer,” said Nott, bobbing her head. “Caleb, can we go?”

He nodded immediately. “ _Ja_ ,” he said. “ _Ja_ , I would like to go.”

Molly laughed and took a bow. “Excellent!” he called. “I know just the place.” 

\--------------------------------------

The host of the Leaky Tap Tavern and Karaoke Bar grinned right away when he saw Molly, and grinned even wider when he noticed how many others had come along. He didn’t even bat an eye when they insisted that Nott was definitely an adult halfling with a skin condition, and quickly waved them on into a back room.

“They know me here,” Molly explained. “People in the hospitality business stick together.”

“And you’ve thrown up here multiple times,” Fjord muttered, settling into one of the chairs. “You’ve really tested their hospitality before.”

Molly tuck his tongue out at him, and tossed the songbook over to Jester. “Here you are, dear. In charge, like we promised.”

She squealed with delight, and started rifling through the pages. “Just you wait, you guys!” she giggled. “Oh, this is going to be so fun!”

“Is there alcohol?” Beau asked.

“Even better. There’s a _minimum purchase_ of alcohol.”

She smiled a wicked smile. “Excellent,” she said. “I’ll have as much beer as physically possible.”

They spent the next few hours tearing through Jester’s song selections, the evening highlights including when they sent tremors through the ground over the chorus of _Sweet Caroline_ , absolutely butchered _I Need a Hero_ , belted out the words to _Build Me Up Buttercup_ , even reluctantly allowed Jester to shove _Never Gonna Give You Up_ into the queue—and then unironically sung their hearts out anyways. They ran through _Bohemian Rhapsody_ , where every person tried to sing every part, destroyed half the soundtrack of _Grease_ , warbled along to _Africa_ , giggled as Beau drunkenly stumbled through _Electric Love_ and tried hard not to look at Yasha the entire time. They even roped the flustered-looking waiter into doing a surprisingly excellent rendition of _Defying Gravity._

Molly, of course, was the most self-confident singer of them all, and for good reason. Fjord’s voice was strong and laced with his trademark drawl. Jester’s was slightly pitchy, but her cheer and enthusiasm made any critiques meaningless. Beau sang aggressively, though after a few drinks she mellowed out significantly. Nott was an auditory nightmare, but seemed so genuinely happy that they just covertly turned down her microphone when she wasn’t looking. Yasha and Caleb were both rather quiet—not from nerves, but as if they weren’t used to singing this way.

By the end of the night, Fjord had broken a heavy sweat. Jester was tipsy off Sangrias, Yasha’s pale skin had flushed slightly pink, Nott’s already-ragged voice was even more mangled—though she didn’t seem to care at all. Beau was completely plastered and needed Yasha’s help staying upright, and Molly had the largest grin in the world splitting his face in two. And though he had started out mostly just humming along at the beginning, even Caleb managed to raise his voice for song or two. He was smiling. His heart was racing and for once, for some reason, it felt good.

"Thank you for this," he murmured to Molly as the others bickered over a song choice. "Thank you for...for helping me calm down, before."

The tiefling smiled. It was small, and soft, and made Caleb's chest flutter.

"Of course, Mister Caleb. I'm always here. Er, I mean, anytime. If you need things. Oh, shit," he said suddenly, “speaking of things, I completely forgot to bring your jacket.”

Caleb blinked, and then shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “Next time.”

“Next time?” Molly paused. “Oh, right, yes, a next time. Yes, er, that’s a great idea.” In the low light, Caleb could see the other man’s cheeks flushing, and his own did as well as he realized the implication of what he’d just said.

“I mean, if you would like a next time?” he tried. “If that is agreeable.”

“Yes, absolutely! Er, sorry, that was loud, I mean—“

Jester slammed the songbook down on the table and aimed the remote at the screen and hit the combination for the last song of the night. Then she grabbed two mics, shoving one into Molly’s hands—who instantly accepted—and one into Caleb’s. A-ha’s _Take on Me_ started filtering in through the slightly-fuzzy speakers under the monitor.

Caleb’s eyes widened.

“No, er, Jester—”

And then he saw Molly’s face. Those red eyes were looking back at him. Open, friendly, and only slightly pleading. There was a faint blush across his cheeks. His lips were parted in a slightly worried grin.

“Please?” he asked softly.

It wasn’t much. But for Caleb, right now, it was everything.

He sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can keep up with you.”

Molly instantly beamed. His tail perked up behind him. “That’s alright, Mister Caleb! Nobody can! It’s the effort that’s always worth it.”

Bright green words appeared on the screen. Molly locked his gaze onto Caleb’s and began to sing.

“ _We’re talking away. I don’t know what I’m to say—I’ll say it anyway, ‘Today’s another day to find you.’ Shying away, I’ll be coming for your love, okay_?”

“ _Take on me_ ,” Jester shouted happily into the mic, “ _take on me_!”

“ _Take me on_ ,” Fjord echoed, “ _take on me—_ ”

“ _I’ll be gone_ ,” sang Yasha.

“ _In a day or two!_ ” crooned Nott and Beau together, and then the whole group looked over at Caleb.

“Er, er…” he began, and swallowed, and steeled himself, “ _So needless to say_ ,” he sang, “ _of odds and ends, but that’s me_ , er, _stumbling away. Slowly learning that life is okay…_ ”

“ _Say it after me_ ,” Molly jumped in immediately, “ _it’s no better to be safe than sorry._ ”

_Take on me (take on me)_  
_Take me on (take on me)_  
_I'll be gone_  
_In a day or two._

“ _Oh, the things that you say,_ ” sang Caleb softly, “ _is it a life or just to play my worries away_?”

Molly shook his head, “ _You’re all the things I’ve got to remember. You’re shying away—_ ”

“ _I’ll be coming for you anyway,_ ” they finished together.

_Take on me (take on me)_  
_Take me on (take on me)_  
_I'll be gone_  
_In a day or two._

And as the rest of the group ended the song, collapsing into a fit of giggles and cheers and drunken clapping, Molly and Caleb continued to stare at each other for just a little  longer. And then they looked away, lowering their mics, cheeks flushed and eyes on the ground as the flashing technicolor light of the screen washed gently over them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, there were SO MANY songs I wanted them to sing and not enough time ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This probably goes without saying but updates won't be quite as quick as these two just were, since I'm still working this summer. But I promise I'll keep writing, and y'all only make me want to write more <3
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you have some fun prompts or just want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you allllll <333


	3. Winter Air in the Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i have barely any plot but its okay because this is now decidedly slice of life and there are no rules just right, featuring: jay ruins herself formatting phone conversations, fifa hype leaking through, and budget cuts

Today | 3:27 AM

**Molly Tealeaf:** hey there!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i got your number from the movie chat haha  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i just wanted to let you know how much fun I had tonight!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you have an excellent singing voice  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and we should absolutely do this again ‘(~˘▾˘)’~  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and maybe im being forward but if you ever want to talk about what happened w the electricity?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** : also I still need to give you that jacket back, don’t i  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyhow you’re probably asleep now so i’ll talk to you later  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night mister caleb!

\-------------------------------------

“My sneakers are still fine,” said Nott as Caleb chewed the end of his expo marker and drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “You can cross that one off the list.”

“Are you certain?” he pressed. “They are looking rather tattered, and if I sell the clothes Jester got me then we should be—”

“No _way_ ,” Nott frowned, shaking her head. “That was a present! You can’t sell it, what if she asks to see them? Or what if you need to go on another fancy date?”

Caleb scoffed. “I do not think I will be doing that anytime soon...but you are right. That would be rude to Jester. Fine,” he sighed, and drew a line through ‘new sneakers’ on the whiteboard. “We can see if there is enough money next month.”

“Hey, hey, what about the rings I stole, though?” Nott asked. “Maybe they’ll be worth something this time. Or, if we really need to, we can try running some cons.”

Caleb nodded slowly. “We can go see how the rings sell later, when Bibelots is open. As for trying old tricks, that might have to be a plan C, or even D. I do not really want any undue attention from the law. Better to steal from the shadows.”

She shrugged, and reached across the table to pull Frumpkin into her lap. “Whatever you say, Caleb.”

“Okay,” he said, and scribbled a final number at the bottom of the board. “This should work. If we are careful, in a month, we will have enough electricity to use the television and charge our belongings at home, for sure.”

“Really?” she asked, face brightening. “That’s great! Then we can host movie night, when it’s our turn!”

His triumphant expression turned slightly sheepish. “Yes, _spatz_ , then we can. I take it you know what happened, last night?”

“Yep. I did want to check the TV to make sure, first, but I would’ve said something if Molly hadn’t interrupted—”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “ _Nein_ , no, I am…glad that you did not.”

She frowned. “How come?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, er,” he said, “I do not want the others to know that we are struggling, financially.”

“What? Why not?”

He felt wretched as he sighed and said, “I don’t want them to think down on us. We are poor, and they are not. Well, at least we know that Jester and Beau are not—”

“Their apartment was _crazy_.”

“—and if the Moondrop has such a reputation, I am sure that Fjord and Molly and Yasha are not either. But…but we are, and I am worried that if they found out, they would not want to spend time with us anymore.”

Nott was quiet for a moment. Then she blinked her huge yellow eyes and asked, “Is _that_ why you worked so hard to clean up before, when they came over yesterday?”

He nodded miserably.

There were a few more beats of silence as Nott considered this. Then she nodded firmly and pressed a finger to her lips. “Alright then, Caleb. I won’t say anything. Goblin’s promise. Well, that doesn’t really mean much, I guess. Nott’s promise,” she amended with a faint grin.

He returned the smile and leaned over to ruffle her hair. “Thank you, Nott. I am glad you understand. And hopefully, if nothing goes wrong, we should be fine financially and will not have to worry too much next month.”

She grinned. “Great! And then maybe you could start using your phone too, and you can talk to that purple guy.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, and then stood up and reached for his satchel. “For now, though, we have other things to focus on. Like how it is almost time for work. Are you coming along, today?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to hang around the square and see if I can…help our money problems a bit more.”

“Alright,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder, “be safe. Stay hidden—”

“—and stay alert, yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a _professional_ , remember?”

He chuckled. “How could I forget?”

She gave him a short, poorly-executed salute. “See you later, Caleb! Have fun at the library.”

He shrugged his old coat on, did the buttons up, and wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck. “See you later, _spatz._ Have fun in the Square. Come on, Frumpkin.”

And then, after the orange tabby slipped into the hall, he shut the door and headed off to work.

\-------------------------------------

Today | 10:26PM

**Molly Tealeaf:** good morning mister caleb!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** : i hope you slept well, sorry about all those texts last night!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i must’ve had a bit more to drink than i thought  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways, I just wanted to see if you were free anytime this weekend?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** there’s a lovely little coffee shop ive just been dying to try  
**Molly Tealeaf:** : i think you’d like it

Today | 12:14PM

**Molly Tealeaf:** so if that sounds good, shoot me a text?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive got a flexible schedule any time before 6 dear

Molly slipped his phone back into his pocket and sagged in the barstool until his forehead hit the countertop. Yasha pulled a cup down from the back shelf and poured him a glass of water.

“I don’t see why I needed to come in so early,” he mumbled, words muffled. “It’s not like I _need_ to practice, really.”

“That’s not a good attitude,” Yasha chided, and slid the drink over. “Gustav made it clear that the 25th anniversary event was important to him, and there are only three days left.”

Molly sighed, and reached blindly for the glass. When his fingers finally made contact, he lifted his head, took a sip, and frowned.

“This isn’t vodka, dear.”

She nodded. “It’s water. It’s noon. You’re hungover.”

Molly scoffed, but took another sip. “I am _not_ hungover,” he protested. “Beau was the only one who got that shitfaced last night.”

“That may be true,” Yasha agreed, “but you are still not in top shape. Desmond did not call a break because _he_ was tired of playing, that is for sure. And the others can tell there is something on your mind. Me included.”

Molly shrugged. “Maybe there is, dear. Or, maybe, I’m just having a bad day.”

“You?” Yasha raised an eyebrow. “I did not know that was possible.”

Molly stuck his tongue out at her. “It happens to the best of us. I would know, because I’m the best of us.”

Yasha sighed. “Is this about Caleb? Is that what this is?”

Molly had a brief flashback to staring at his phone screen at four in the morning, waiting to see if the other man would respond. He shook his head.

“Absolutely not. Not at all.”

Yasha, bless her heart, seemed convinced. “Is it your...abilities? Are they acting up again?”

Molly shook his head much faster this time. “No, no. It’s…it’s really nothing. I promise, I’m in tip-top shape—”

“Good!” grinned Bosun as his large green hand suddenly clapped Molly on the back. The half-orc leaned against the corner of the bar and beamed. “Break’s over now, friend. We’re going again from Toya’s solo. Sound good?”

Molly shot him a cheerful smile. “Sounds wonderful.”

And as they both stood up and walked past, Yasha gave Molly a meaningful, furrowed brow that conveyed just how concerned she was about him. He shrugged sheepishly, stomached the guilt of lying to his best friend, and followed Bosun back towards the stage with the twirl of an imaginary coat.

\-------------------------------------

Nott slipped into a back-alley just on the fringes of the Pentamarket Square, and took a quick swig from her flask. There were plenty of folks out today, morning commuters and shoppers getting a head start on Winter’s Crest gifts. She rubbed her fingers together, and murmured a few quick arcane commands. A small, shimmering hand appeared before her, and then promptly turned invisible. She beamed, and then scaled the dumpster and pulled herself onto a nearby fire escape.

\-------------------------------------

Caleb had his nose buried deep between the covers of a particularly promising summary of the history of magical breakthroughs in the Pre-Divergence Era, and almost didn’t notice when Jester dropped her heavy pink bookbag onto the floor and cheerfully plopped her elbows onto the counter, leaning her face annoyingly close to his. He didn’t even blink when she started singing his name and flicking the little metal bell in front of him, and he ignored her as she started insulting him and cursing out his cat, and didn’t even move until she clapped her hands together, muttered the incantation for Thaumaturgy, and made all the doors and windows slam open with a shuddering blast of hellish energy.

Chilly winter air flooded into the library. He looked up, met the raised eyebrow of Jester, and blinked.

“Oh. Good morning, Jester.”

She rolled her eyes, and draped her arms over the counter to try and smack the book out of Caleb’s hands. He pulled away in time, so she rolled onto her back and her upside-down face beamed at him without any hint of annoyance.

“It’s the afternoon, dummy,” she teased. “I finished my classes. I’m here to be tutored.”

Caleb blinked again, and shook his head slightly. “ _Scheisse_ , it is already two-thirty?”

She nodded, and flicked him in the nose. “Ah, I knew you were in there somewhere. I sent you like thirty texts, Caleb.”

He gave her an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Jester. But you know I do not use my phone.”

She pouted, and shook her head. “Why _not_ though, Caleb! It makes life _sooo_ much easier, what’s even the point of having one if you don't use it?”

“In case I am going somewhere dangerous, and I need to keep in contact with you all.”

Jester giggled. “Why would you be going somewhere dangerous, silly?” And before he could answer she held up her own phone and waved it around in the air. “Besides, _I’m_ not offended, but how will you be able to talk to Molly now? How are you guys going to coordinate your dates?”

Caleb scowled, but mostly out of embarrassment. “Jester, we barely know one another. We aren’t going on dates. If he needs me, he can always contact Nott.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Does _he_ know that? If you guys 'barely' know each other, like you said, would he know about the goblin messenger pigeon system you’ve got going on?”

Caleb opened his mouth, then closed it again. He paused.

“Oh,” he said. “Er...I suppose not.”

Jester sighed dramatically, and tapped him lightly on the arm. “I’ll let Molly know,” she said magnanimously. “In the meantime! I need math help.” She leaned down and rummaged around in her bag until she pulled out a red binder, which she passed to Caleb. “I don’t know what the fuck a vector is,” she said, “but I need to by tomorrow.”

He sighed, and put his book down. “Alright, alright. I’m still technically on shift, though, so pull a chair up here. I can’t leave the front desk.”

As Jester retreated to the copy room—makeshift staff lounge—to fetch a stool, Caleb started rifling through her math notes. They were quite neat, though the margins were completely filled with various doodles, some sketches of her surroundings, and many caricatures of her teachers and fellow students. There were also quite a number of scrawled comments and arrows pointing to various drawings. He sighed again.

“Jester, are you using your _math notes_ to talk to the Traveler?”

There was a pause, and then a thud, and then the sound of Jester harrumphing.

“So what if I am?” she called from the back. “So what? I’ve got to talk to him at some point, and numbers are soooo boring. It’s the only way I’ll even stay awake in class, Caleb.”

He rubbed at his eyes. “I understand that, _spassvogel_ , but have you considered that if you did pay attention, you would not have to come ask me for help so often? Sieversii is an excellent institution, and I am sure if you just applied yourself you would do fine. ”

She came through the door, dragging a stool behind her, and shrugged as she brought it next to Caleb’s position at the counter.

“Maybe,” she said, “but then what would be my excuse to come bother you all the time? Besides, the college might be good but our teacher is shit. I don’t know who ever gave Professor Anders his license, but they should be arrested for mistreating children.”

“You are over twenty years old.”

“All the same,” Jester said, and gestured towards her binder. “Anyways, come on! Learning time! Why are there letters in the bracket, and what am I supposed to do with them?”

Caleb picked up a pencil. “These are indicators, that show magnitude and direction,” he explained, drawing a line across the page. “It means that the, the, say a particle, is moving this way…”

\-------------------------------------

Nott, crouching behind the rusted iron railing thirty feet away, cast Minor Image over the necklace grasped in her Mage Hand. It immediately transformed into a pigeon with its wings outstretched, and she quickly yanked the Hand into the air and towards her, creating the illusion, more or less, of a bird taking flight. Nobody seemed to notice anything strange, and she grinned brightly when the hefty silver chain fell into her palm.

“I am the _best_ ,” she whispered delightedly to herself, and slipped the necklace into her pouch. 

\-------------------------------------

“No way,” Beau argued, waving her hands passionately through the air. “Kamordah was _robbed_. That ref had no idea what he was talking about.”

“Elbowing is a foul, Beau,” Fjord sighed, “and if he didn’t call Redleaf out Allfield would’ve stampeded.”

“Aw, bull _shit_. That was barely an elbow! And Allfield shouldn’t be talking, their record last year was a mess.”

“Yeah, sure, but you _know_ Redleaf has a history—”

They continued arguing as they made they way down the sidewalk, city buildings towering above them and streets slowly coming alive as the evening crowd finished work and started filtering out for the night. The sky above them was just beginning to darken, and a winter chill swept across their red cheeks and damp hair--still dripping slightly from the gym showers. Eventually, they turned the corner and the metropolitan landscape opened up into a grand view of the harbor, where ships docked on the river and, a block away, the Fletching & Moondrop stood proudly beside the gleaming water.

“Is Jester coming by tonight?” Beau asked after they eventually just agreed to disagree and began making their way to the back staircase of the bar.

“I think so,” said Fjord as followed Beau up. “I’m pretty sure she has an exam soon, but she’s been pretty excited to see how the anniversary preparations are coming. I promised her a behind-the-scenes tour,” he added sheepishly.

“We work in Fletch, though,” Beau said as she rifled through her duffel bag for the keys.

“I know, I know, but Jester still wants to see it. I’ll sneak her into the back during break and besides, I think they like me enough.”

“Do you know what’s been planned?” Beau asked. “It sucks that we’ll be working while it’s all going on.”

Fjord shrugged again. “I know there’s some kind of big production, but that’s all Molly’s told me so far. He came home one night in a skintight dress and a feather boa, but that might just’ve been him.”

“I wish the performers would tell us more,” Beau groused. “They’re so cliquey.”

“They spend a lot of time together, I guess. And, honestly, I don’t know if I could handle that kind of life. Molly’s gone all hours of the day, I’m just glad he and Yasha bother to hang out with us.”

Beau pushed the door open and raised an eyebrow at Fjord. “Was that sarcasm?” she asked.

He grinned. “Maybe,” he said, and swung the door shut behind him. 

\-------------------------------------

"And...there we go! You look darling, dear."

Toya blinked up into the mirror, and gestured to the glitter dusting her cheeks. "I feel sparkly," she giggled, and watched Molly's eyes twinkle.

"That's the idea. Now you can go onstage, and  _shine_."

Mona groaned, and shook her head. "Don't you dare," she warned. "I've had enough of your terrible jokes to last a lifetime."

Molly placed a hand over his heart, and pretended to be injured. "Are you trying to tell me you  _don't_ think I'm hilarious? That I'm  _not_ the funniest comedian of the decade?"

"She certainly wasn't saying you are," Yuli pointed out from her own dresser. "You don't have to be her identical twin to tell  _that."_

Molly stuck his tongue out at her, and Desmond started to laugh.

"Hey, at least it's kept him off his damn phone for the hour. Molly, what's gotten into you?"

Molly sighed, and tried not to roll his eyes. "It's nothing," he said. "I promise."

Ornna instantly grinned, and peered back out from behind one of the costume racks. "I certainly hope so, for your sake! We'll be down a performer for the show, if  _this_ is the work ethic you're putting in."

"Hey, I'm twice as good as you with half the practice, and  _you_ know it."

"I'm sorry,  _what_ did you just s—"

Desmond shot to his feet waved his hands around frantically before Ornna and Molly could escalate the argument any further. "Ten more minutes!" he declared. "Then we're going back out there, and taking it from the top before we get on with tonight's shows."

As he headed through the door, Ornna narrowed her eyes and shot Molly one last good-natured glare.

He stuck his middle fingers up. Then he turned his hands into a heart, and winked.

\-------------------------------------

“Oh, Mr. Widogast,” said Yorda, the head librarian, just as Caleb was zipping his satchel shut. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.”

Caleb glanced up, and gave her his signature, politely blank expression. “Hello, good afternoon. Is there something we need to discuss?”

She nodded, and Caleb caught the nervous expression in her eyes. His heart sank.

“Is this about my request for more hours?” he asked dejectedly. “I assume you cannot?”

She wrung her hands. “I’m sorry, dear, but I’m afraid it’s worse than that. Er...I’m going to have to cut you down to only three days a week.”

Caleb fumbled for his bag, and just managed to grab the strap before it hit the ground. His eyes were wide, and he could feel a number of emotions now wracking his brain. He tried to tamp them down.

“But...but...why?” he asked as calmly as he could. “Why? I am a good worker., I have the best record with correctly sorting books, I...I am a good worker, Miss—”

Yorda gave him a pained expression and shook her head. “I’m sorry dear, I’m sorry. It’s not you, understand? The whole library’s budget was cut, I promise this has nothing to do with your performance. I’d let you run the entire building all day if I could, we just can’t _afford_ it, right now. Adelaine's getting a cut too, and I won’t tell you how my salary’s looking. I’m sorry, dear. I wish I could do something about it, but—”

After that, it was largely a blur. At some point, Caleb had eventually collected his things, excused himself, and walked out the front door. He barely remembered striding quickly through the city streets, barely remembered making it back to his building, must have avoided the creaking floorboards by the stairs so Kosh wouldn’t hear him on instinct, and only really awoke as he crept into his apartment and shut the door and slumped down onto the ground and closed his eyes. He could see the numbers dancing in front of him, dried-out expo marker scrawled on the whiteboard, his perfect calculations to ensuring their financial security now shattered.

He couldn’t be mad at Yorda; she was a nice enough woman seemed genuine about her sympathy. Libraries were never really on the city's radar anyways, that and the books were why he wanted to work there so badly in the first place. But now what? Now what was he supposed to do?

Somewhere in the fog of frustration, he felt Frumpkin crawl into his lap. He gratefully accepted the cat’s soothing purrs, and tried to think of what he could possibly do next. 

\-------------------------------------

"Is it time for the tour?" Jester asked excitedly as she sprawled across the counter, backpack hanging off her shoulder. "Are we going up now?"

Fjord's face looked stricken. He glanced over at Beau, who gave him a non-committal shrug, and then back to his girlfriend.

"Well," he began slowly, "well...about that..."

\-------------------------------------

Nott was on top of the world. She already had a jade bracelet and another necklace tucked away in her pouch, and was in the middle of the risky but enthralling process of trying to use two Mage Hands at once to carefully remove a woman’s shiny gold earrings. After that, she’d go home and show Caleb the haul she’d gotten today. 

\-------------------------------------

Today | 7:43PM

**Molly Tealeaf:** actually now that i think about it i wont be free on saturday  
**Molly Tealeaf:** its the 25th of the bar!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** tomorrow would be best then i can tell you all about it!

Molly, sprawled across the sofa and glaring intently at his phone, almost didn’t notice as Jester danced into the Moondrop’s break room, followed by an exasperated-looking Fjord. But then she grinned delightedly, and threw herself onto the cushion next to Molly and started giggling.

“Mollymauk! How are you today?”

He looked over, took in the sheepish smile on Fjord’s face, and beamed. “I’m doing wonderfully, dear. What brings you here?”

“I need a full tour and breakdown of the anniversary performance,” she said, instantly snapping in all-business mode. “Fjord doesn’t know shit.”

“Well, come on, I know _some_ things—”

“Like what?” Molly asked, raising an eyebrow. “What could you possibly know?”

He floundered for a moment, and then looked down at the ground. “Drinks are 25% off downstairs,” he muttered. “There’s a new DJ.”

Molly laughed, and flung an arm around Jester’s shoulders. “Stick with me, dear. I’ll fill you in. But Fjord isn’t allowed to know. Not because he works downstairs,” Molly added quickly, “but because I just _love_ seeing him like this.” Then he turned towards Fjord and winked. “Tell Beau she’s welcome up here any time, and I’m sure I could rope Yasha into showing her around.”

As the half-orc rolled his eyes, Jester giggled harder and nodded excitedly. “Ooh, I can’t wait! Oh, but first,” she said, quickly tapping Molly on the nose, “I have a message from Caleb. Well, more or less. Basically if you two are going to be friends, you need to know that he never uses his cell. If you need to talk to him, you gotta go through Nott.”

Molly had a brief flashback to the night before, when three feet of narrow-eyed, suspicious green protectiveness had glared up at him from behind scraggly bangs and a tattered brown hoodie. He thought about Caleb. He sighed.

“Alright, alright,” Molly conceded. “No pain no gain, I suppose. Now, a tour! Come on, I know just where to start.”

“Oh?”

“Oh _yes_. The costume room.”

\-------------------------------------

“What’re you doing back down here so soon?” Beau asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you and Jester were going to go fuck in the back room?”

Fjord’s ears turned a deep, deep shade of green, and he dejectedly made his way around the bar. “First off all, we weren’t going to do that,” he muttered. “Secondly, Molly stole her. He’s showing her the decorations ‘n whatever now.”

Beau, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, shrugged. “Hey, at least she’s happy, right?”

Fjord sighed, but this did seem to brighten his mood. “Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed, and then gave Beau a sly grin. “Yasha’s up there right now too, by the street level door. Molly says she might give you a tour if you asked nicely. And I don’t think she goes on break for a while, so if you wanted to sneak up there…?”

Beau’s cheeks colored, and she quickly looked down at the ground. “I...er...nah. Nah, it’s alright. But um...was she wearing that sleeveless shirt?”

Fjord chuckled, and nodded.

“Fuck me running,” sighed Beau, and let her arms uncross. “Damn.”

\-------------------------------------

“Caleb, why are you on the floor?” Nott asked as she climbed through the window. Living on the third floor never broke her habit of unconventional entry.

He looked up, and worry instantly spiked through her chest. That glassy-eyed expression usually was a signal that something was wrong. She quickly made her way over, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright? Is...is there anything wrong?”

He nodded, and sighed. “Yorda spoke to me today.”

“...um...alright? What did she say?”

“She cut down my hours. We are now operating on two less days of salary.”

Nott was quiet for a moment. Then she carefully wiggled an arm between his back and the wall, and pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay,” she muttered. “We...we’ll be fine. You’ll figure it out and oh, hey!”

She broke away, and yanked her pouch out. “Look at this! Look, I got a _bunch_ of stuff today, and it might even be real! Maybe this will help.”

Caleb, who had untensed slightly after her embrace, managed a small smile. “That’s very good, _spatz_. I am sure they will help quite a bit, we can go see Oglen tomorrow.”

“Great!” beamed Nott with relief. “I can—”

Her phone buzzed. She frowned, and pulled it out. 

Today | 8:19PM

**Molly Tealeaf:** hello there Nott

She blinked, and rubbed at her eyes. Maybe the cold air of the apartment was messing with her vision. When she looked back down at the screen, she frowned. It _was_ Molly.

**Nott TB:** what do you want

There was a brief pause, and the “...” icon let Nott know her response had the desired effect.

**Molly Tealeaf:** straight to the point i see alright  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i was told that if i need to contact caleb you are the person to go to  
**Molly Tealeaf:** actually apparently via phone you are the only person to go to

She smirked slightly at that. Next to her, Caleb peered over her shoulder at the tiny screen.

**Nott TB:** you are correct why do you need him

There was another pause.

**Molly Tealeaf:** id like to arrange a meeting with him  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i need to give that coat back  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and i want to treat him to coffee tomorrow to thank him for letting me borrow it

She rolled her eyes, and Caleb spoke.

“Who is that? What are they saying?”

Nott passed her cell over. “It’s Molly. He wants to meet up tomorrow and return your coat and buy you coffee.”

Caleb blinked. There was something stirring at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t entirely pinpoint what it was. “He wants to return my coat and buy me coffee?”

Nott shrugged. “I guess.” And then she brightened and said, “Hey, you should go! You need to relax, I bet, and you love coffee. And free things. And that coat was a present from Jester. She’d be sad if you didn’t get it.”

Caleb rubbed his chin. He glanced down at the phone, and handed it back to Nott. “Al...alright, I suppose. I guess I would not have had anything to do tomorrow anyway.”

“Great!” Nott said. “I’ll let him know.”

Caleb nodded. “Do that, please. I will...um...I will go sort out my closet, now. Excuse me.”

And then he got up, and walked into the bedroom. Nott heard the curtain that divided the room in two slide shut.

She looked back at her phone.

**Molly Tealeaf:** please tell me you aren’t ignoring me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** do you hate me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** that was mostly a joke but now i need to know  
**Molly Tealeaf:** nott please if anything just let me swing by and give him the coat  
**Molly Tealeaf:** nott please

She sighed.

**Nott TB:** he’s in  
**Nott TB:** if the coffee place is far he’ll need a ride  
**Nott TB:** im watching you mister  
**Molly Tealeaf:** uh  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you  
**Nott TB:** dont mention it pick a time for tomorrow bye

And before Molly could type out a response, she grinned smugly to herself, put the phone away, and skipped off to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for reading!! Sorry this took forever to push out, now that ive kind of found a direction it should be quicker now and i promise next chapter we will have some fun fun scenes
> 
>  (If anybody is curious, maybe take a google at the name I gave Jester’s College and then look up the tutoring village in Zadash I was very proud of that Easter egg I’m a huge nerd)
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you have some fun prompts or just want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all! <33333


	4. Vanilla, Cream, and Chocolate Shavings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this update real? Yes! Is it 7.5K? Yes! Does it feature mornings with Caleb, apartment-hunting, bromance, cat love, shaving, and the fated coffee shop date? You BET it does!
> 
> (Edit: FYI, from now on I'm using the [exandria calendar!](http://criticalrole.wikia.com/wiki/Calendar_of_Tal%27Dorei) Months will be as follows, but days of the week was too confusing so we're sticking with those.)

Caleb opened his eyes, and rolled over in bed, and waited for his brain to catch up and tell him what time it was. When the tired answer of “7AM” finally crept through the fog of exhaustion, he sighed to himself, slipped off his covers, and trudged into the bathroom. It was only as he just finished brushing his teeth over the chipped sink in front of the water-stained mirror did he remember that he did not have work today.

Or, rather, that he _should_ have had work today.

He spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. He silently watched the suds swirl down the drain. He continued to stare long after the basin had dried. Then he put his toothbrush back on the ledge next to the green, untouched and very dusty child’s toothbrush that always rested there, and walked back to his bed.

He laid down and stared at the ceiling.

After about an hour, he shot up and marched out into the kitchen.

\--------------------------------------

Around this time, Yasha awoke. The sound of pedestrians out on the street and the rush of cars passing by welcomed her brightly, as it did every morning. She rubbed at her eyes, and yawned, and stretched.

\--------------------------------------

“What’s all this for?” Nott asked as she climbed onto the dinner table with a strip of jerky in her hands.

Caleb looked up from the massive pile of newspapers spread out before him, and gently tugged free a page that Nott had taken a seat on. Then he gestured at the nearest advert, which read:

_Waiter Wanted—apply at the Meal Hearth, front counter_.

“I’m job-hunting,” Caleb sighed. “We need a steadier stream of income than three days at a library and whatever you can steal.”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “Do you even _know_ how to be a waiter?” she asked.

“Well, no,” he admitted, “but I suppose I will have to learn.”

“Maybe _I_ could find a job too?” she suggested. “That way you wouldn’t be the only one caught in the cogs of our terrible capitalist society. And anyways, isn’t it good for you to have some free time?”

Caleb blinked a few times as he tried to process that statement. Then he sighed and said, “As nice as that would be, I do not think it is possible. You aren’t exactly…what, er, what most employers are looking for.”

“That’s true,” Nott agreed, and chewed a bite of jerky. “I’m also not technically a citizen, so that could make things complicated, right?”

“Right. Maybe you should just focus on just having sticky fingers for now. And speaking of sticky fingers, it is time to head out to Oglen’s soon, _ja_?”

Nott shook her head and waved the jerky in front of his face. “Actually,” she said, “ _I_ should head out to Oglen’s soon. _You_ should be getting ready for your date.”

Caleb blinked. “My date? I don’t have a…oh. You mean coffee with Mollymauk?”

Nott pulled out her phone and beamed. “That’s the one,” she said. “He wants to meet up at ten, which is in…two hours. This is the address,” she added, flipping the screen around. “You’ll remember it, right?”

“ _Ja_ , of course,” Caleb said, though now suddenly overwhelmed. “But I do not understand why I would need _two_ hours to get ready. Especially for a casual meet-up between acquaintances.”

Nott sighed. “The first time you met each other, it was at a crazy-fancy restaurant and you were in a dinner jacket that Jester custom-ordered for you. He’s going to have _expectations_.”

“But he was here for movies just two nights ago,” Caleb protested. “I was not dressed so nicely then.”

“That’s _different,_ ” Nott said, shaking her head. “There were a bunch of people around then, so it doesn’t matter so much. But when it’s just the two of you, the stakes are higher. You’ve got to be _presentable_. Come on, Caleb, even _I_ know this, and I’m a goblin.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, sorry,” he sighed. “It has been a while since I’ve needed to bother with this sort of thing. Are you sure this level of effort is required for when two people who barely know each other go to a café?”

“I wouldn’t say he _barely_ knows you,” Nott said, “but yes. It’s even _more_ important if you aren’t familiar, because his impression of you isn’t finished yet. I know these things.”

 “Yes, and how _do_ you know these things?”

She shrugged. “Jester let me borrow her magazines.”

“…what are these magazines _called_?”

“ _Iva’s Secrets_. They’re by some lady who runs a bookstore for ‘young wimmen’ and ‘lonely gents,’ according to the back page.”

Caleb was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed and rubbed his temples. “I am not sure you should be reading these, but I suppose I am not one to stop you from pursuing the written word—”

“—damn straight.”

“—so I will just shut up and…and…prepare for this _casual_ meet-up, then.”

“Great!” Nott grinned and slid off the table. Then she passed Caleb her phone and added, “Here. I’ll leave this with you in case you need to call Molly while I’m gone. Oh, I’m so excited to see what’s in the store today. There are so many shiny trinkets and flashy baubles, and Oglen doesn’t even notice when I take stuff from him to re-sell.”

\--------------------------------------

“I’m just saying,” Beau said as she slowly lowered the last of the kettlebells. “You’re going to need a lot of pantry space. Jester eats like…well, like a demon. Or a teenage boy.”

Fjord wiped a towel across his brow. “But pastries don’t even last that long,” he said. “And it’s not like you’re supposed to put them into a cupboard, right?”

Beau shook her head. “The point is that she’s going to _try_ to. And when she realizes that they went stale, like they always do, then she’s going to buy sugary snacks and candy to make up for it. And if you aren’t prepared, it’ll be heaps and heaps of bags everywhere, and you’ll go crazy. Believe me, I’ve been her roommate for like…three years now.”

“And I always commend you for that sacrifice, Beau.”

“Thanks.” She tossed him a water bottle. “Now it’s your turn.”

Fjord took a seat on the bench and sighed. “Moving in together is a real big deal, you know? I just want to make sure everything works out right.”

Beau plopped down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Fjord, relax. She’s head-over-heels for you. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if it _isn’t_?” he pressed. “What if she ends up hating how much I snore, or she gets sick of me kicking in bed all the time, or what if I have a million little habits that it turns out she can’t stand? I mean, sometimes I leave clothes out, and maybe I forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste, what if that bothers her but she’s too nice to tell me, and it all ends up just…festerin’ until she hates me?”

Beau shook her head. “First of all, if she doesn’t like something she’ll _definitely_ let you know. Nothing gets held back for her, that’s Jester 101. Secondly, if you already know you do these things, then warn her! Set some fuckin’ boundaries! You two need to sit down and have a _chat_ about this shit, right? That’s what _we_ did on day one.”

Fjord nodded, and gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Beau. That’s…pretty smart.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I’m an educated motherfucker, alright? Even if I ran away from school, I still know some shit.”

“I don’t really think they teach you that stuff in sch—”

Beau waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. Don’t push it.”

He snorted. “Alright, alright, you got it.”

“Great. Now, it’s almost nine. Get your ass to class. If you fail, you can’t sneak me into the college gym anymore and our entire friendship will fall apart. Hop to it." 

\--------------------------------------

Mollymauk Tealeaf, standing out on the sidewalk in front of the large windows of the café, checked his phone. Then he examined his reflection the glass, adjusted his jewelry, and checked his phone again.

It was…okay to arrive this early, right? It was the proper thing to do, right? Even if was only 8:45AM and they were supposed to meet at ten, right?

After a few more moments of deliberation, he brushed off his jacket and decided to take another lap around the block. Then he’d definitely go inside and scout out the perfect place to sit.

He could also use that time to decide what to order. Yes. Good. Now he had a plan.  

\--------------------------------------

“Are you kidding me?” Nott shook her head. “That ring’s got to be worth at least forty. Do you see that? Those little flowers? That’s ornamental, that is. Sophisticated, that is.”

Oglen squinted through the lens of his spectacles. “Flowers? What, the squiggles? Eh…I’ll go thirty, but no higher than that.”

“Come _on_ , come _on,_ that’s genuine bronze, there! Caleb checked it, and you know how smart he is. We’re returning customers too, regulars even. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Oglen seemed to consider this for a moment, then sighed and lowered his glasses. “Alright, Nott. Thirty-five.”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Thirty-six.”

“Deal.”

He nodded, and added the ring to a growing pile of random jewelry and knick-knacks resting on the wooden countertop between them. Then he made a small note at the bottom of a slip of paper and turned back to Nott.

“Okay,” he said. “What else have you got?”

She reached into her pouch and produced a set of earrings. “Now, don’t try to sell me short again, Oglen. These have got _gemstones_ , alright? They’ll be worth more than a pretty penny to any lady coming here to buy from you.”

The wizened old gnome pushed up his spectacles.

“Bring ‘em closer,” he said. “ _I’ll_ be the judge of that.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb finally managed to dig out a knit cardigan from the very back of his not-so-large closet, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was old, probably from a thrift store, and unsurprisingly a shade of light brown, but all the buttons were still there and the collar wasn’t too bulky and really, it was the best he could do.

He pushed aside the wrinkled t-shirts and occasional hoodie that had swamped his bed and lay the cardigan down gently on the covers. Then he nodded to himself and walked into the bathroom.

He stared at his reflection for a few moments, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the pale tone of his face, the overall sunken nature of his features. He ran a hand through his beard, freshly-washed but rather messy and tangled, especially for its short length.

He put his forehead against the mirror. He stared into the sink. He reached a hand into his pocket, pulled out Nott’s cell, and dialed a number.

The phone rang a few times before the person on the other end picked up.

“Hello? Nott?”

“Er, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “actually, this is Caleb. How are you, Yasha?”

There was a brief pause on the end of the line.

“Caleb? Are you okay?”

He gave a nervous laugh. “No, no, nothing is the matter. I cannot just call one of my few friends for a chat? No such thing as pleasant conversation, anymore?”

“You don’t even have a phone you use, Caleb. Try again.”

He sighed.

“Yasha, you have known this group longer than I have. And you are used to dealing with many individuals from your work at the bar. I, on the other hand…I am an odd duck and this group is very large for me. I’ve only had Nott and Frumpkin for a year, you know? Then suddenly I met Jester and you and Beau, which has been wonderful, but now we are adding Molly and Fjord after barely having time to get to know the rest of you, and Beau and I have only just made up over the ‘bowl incident,’ and now today Molly and I are supposed to meet one-on-one, and…and I would like to make a good impression. I would like some advice.”

There was another, much longer pause. Yasha seemed to be trying to think of a response.

“Er, well…” she said, “...well, I mean...I am awkward too, Caleb, but...er...I suppose, if he tries to talk to you, you should respond, and, er...and you should be nice, and…and chew with your mouth closed, and wash your hands…”

And then they were both silent, for a while.

“I am confused,” Caleb said eventually. “Do you… _have_ advice, or—”

Yasha sighed deeply. “Yes, yes, I do, I think, I am…not very good at this. Just, well, just be clean? It helps to be clean. How do you do that, anyway, stay dirty all the time?”

There was another pause.

“I did not mean that to sound so accusatory,” Yasha said quietly. “I apologize—”

“ _Nein_ , no, it is alright,” Caleb said quickly, “I got it. I just…er…well, this is a big city. And if you want to go unnoticed, the best way is to, as you said, ‘stay dirty,’ and people tend not to pay attention to you."

“I understand that,” Yasha said immediately. “I like to evade notice too, but I am…hard to miss. Not, you know, not hard to miss in the sense that, ‘woo, I am so pretty, I am so hard to miss,’ but more like…like…”

“Like you are built like a barn.”

“Exactly.”

“You know what I miss?” Caleb sighed, and pulled back to look at his reflection.

“What?”

He ran a hand through his beard. “I miss shaving. Feeling _clean_.”

There was another pause. Then Yasha spoke:

“I could…er… _I_ could shave you, if you like?”

He blinked. “ _Was_? Really? Have you…done that sort of thing before?”

“Yes, I have. Molly or Jester can tell you. Hang on, hang on, are you at home? I can be there in ten minutes.”

Caleb blinked again. “Oh, er, Yasha, it is alright, I do not think—”

The line went dead. He lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen for a few moments. Then he sighed, and went to go sink his face into a pillow.

\--------------------------------------

“Jester,” Fjord whispered to hunched shape sitting next to him. “Jester, do you understand what Anders is goin’ on about?”

She glanced up from her notebook, covered in scribbled doodles and tiny comments in the margins. She glanced around the lecture hall, to the whiteboard, and then back at Fjord.

“Are…uh…are we still on chapter seven?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, good,” she grinned. “In that case, yes, I do know what he’s talking about.”

“Thank the gods. D’you think you could give me a hand, later on today? I’m lost.”

Jester reached over and gave him a pat on the hand. “Of course, Fjord. But really, I think maybe you should just get a tutor. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and Caleb would probably love more business, you know?”

He nodded sheepishly. “I think that’s probably a good idea. Otherwise I might have to kiss goin’ to Soltryce goodbye.”

She gave him another pat. “I can ask him for you later,” she whispered. “Now shush, I am in the middle of telling the Traveler what happened in _The Courting of the Crick_ last night.”

\--------------------------------------

“Yasha, is that a _sword_?”

“Yes? Why?”

Caleb rubbed his temples, and considered the wicked black pommel sticking out from behind Yasha’s imposing frame. The rest of the blade, wrapped in canvas, hung a foot off the ground. All in all, the weapon was probably almost as tall as its owner, which was saying something.

He sighed and waved a hand. “Come in, come in, I guess. You can put your coat on the rack, and…Yasha _why_ do you have a _sword_?”

She took her boots off and hung her jacket up and followed him into the living room-area of the apartment.

“I don’t know,” she said, “for protection? You never know when you need a good sword.”

“Do…do you need a permit for that, or…?”

She shrugged. “Nobody has approached me about it so far.”

Caleb stared at her, took in her rock-hard biceps and sharp face paint and dead-eyed, cold-faced stare. She was probably a good foot-and-a-half taller than him, and twice as wide.

“I can’t imagine why,” he said. “Anyways, er…what am I supposed to do? Should I lie down?”

Yasha seemed to think about this for a moment. “Yes,” she said, “that might be best. Here, er…on the floor should work.”

He looked down at the wooden floorboards, and then watched as she casually unsheathed the sword. He quickly got down.

“Do you… _always_ use such a large blade for these things?” he asked.

“No,” Yasha admitted. “Usually a dagger, or a razor, or something.”

“So why did you bring _that_?”

“It’s the only thing I have. Why, do _you_ have a razor?”

Caleb considered this for a moment, weighing the options between having to actually go out and spend money on a pack of razors, versus putting his faith in Yasha.

He sighed. “Is this…is this going to hurt me? I know you are very strong, but is dexterity—”

“I have done this many times before,” she said. “I like having smooth arms, you know, and Molly likes having—”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them again and met her gaze. “I am glad we are friends,” he added quietly.

She cracked a smile at that. “I am glad also.”

“Oh. Oh, good.”

And then he closed his eyes, and held his breath, and waited.

\--------------------------------------

“Oglen, it has been a _pleasure_ doing business with you as always,” Nott grinned as the gnome grudgingly took her hand. “I admire your bartering skills, but know that on this day, you have been bested by Nott the Brave!”

He huffed. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said. “Not many others would be so nice about dealing with goblins. I hope you remember that next time you try and bargain the price up that high.”

“I hope _you_ remember that I know what health code standards look like, and I know that the city isn’t so kind to merchants trading in illegal magical artifacts.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Oglen said. “It has been a pleasure. Come back any time.”

And with that, Nott shoved the bills into her pocket and cheerfully skipped out of the store.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb turned back to a rather satisfied-looking Yasha standing in the doorway to his bathroom.

“Well?” she asked. “What do you think?”

He ran a finger along his jawline and over his chin, smooth for the first time in over a year. There was an occasional stubby patch, but nothing too obvious for those that didn’t know where to look.

“It’s…it’s fantastic, Yasha,” he said quietly. “Really. Thank you.”

She nodded. “You are welcome. Pay me back with Frumpkin?”

He chuckled at that.  “Of course, _Engel_. I need to dress quickly now, but he will be in the kitchen. Stay as long as you please.”

Yasha's multicolored eyes glimmered. “Have fun on your date,” she said. “I will go find the cat.”

And before Caleb could correct her— _it’s not a date, seriously_ —she darted out of the room with surprising speed, and he was alone in the bedroom.

He sighed, gave one last glance at his reflection, and started getting ready.

\--------------------------------------

Molly, still out on the sidewalk, finally nodded to himself, slung a long, plastic garment bag over his shoulder, and strode into the café.

\--------------------------------------

“Jester, why do you keep checking your phone?” Fjord whispered as the lesson continued. “It’s not polite.”

“It’s not any ruder than doodling,” she hissed back, “which is what I _would_ be doing. Anyways, I’m checking to see if Molly’s sent me any texts. He and Caleb are going on that date today, remember?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Fjord nodded. “Is that why Molly was so frantic this mornin’ about what to wear?”

“Probably,” Jester shrugged. “You know, you really shouldn’t have to ask _me_ for information about his personal life. He’s _your_ roommate.”

Fjord sighed. “Molly is an enigma to me, Jes. Give me Beau any day, I at least understand _her_. She’s a straight shooter. Well, not a _straight_ shooter—”

Jester giggled. “Definitely not. Don’t worry, Oskar, I will keep giving you romantic updates. Even when you don’t want them, I will keep doing so.”

He sighed again. “Thank you, I think?”

“You’re welcome. Now hush, I am trying to focus. Go back to learning, or whatever you were doing before.”

\--------------------------------------

A tiny bell over the door jingled softly as Caleb stepped inside. The Candleglow Café—its name scrawled proudly outside the large glass windows in curling script—was a small establishment with a warmly-lit interior. The ceiling sported a canopy of hanging plants, tiny yellow and scarlet flowers peeking through broad green leaves in wicker baskets. The hardwood floors gleamed from sunlight filtering in, and the afternoon crowd’s idle chatter created a soft blanket of quiet sound. Two figures stood at the wooden counter to the left, its surface piled high with platters of pastries. A chalkboard behind them listed drink offerings and announced that peppermint lattes were the season’s specialty. The smell of brewing espresso warmed the air.

Glancing around, Caleb could see that the clientele not only included the standard humans, halflings and such, but also a handful of more colorful folks. Their groupings varied; a tiefling sat across from a dwarf and a pair of sun elves shared drinks with two humans, and so on. None of the chairs they sat in matched either—some were painted with flowers, others sported cushions, a few metal, at the back were just sofas thrown in for fun. But instead of feeling haphazard and random, the atmosphere seemed strangely homey, weirdly honest. It was the very definition of snug. It said: _we might not be organized, or coherent, or make any sense, but it works. And we serve damn good coffee._

As Caleb made one final sweep of the café, his eyes landed on a splash of purple lounging behind one of the small circular tables to his right, by the windows. It wore a maroon varsity jacket absolutely wrecked with embroidery, and had a pair of curling horns sporting silver and gold jewelry.

It was Mollymauk. Who looked over, saw Caleb, and immediately sat up and waved.

“Over here, dear!”

Caleb restrained himself from nervously combing through his hair, smiled weakly instead, and walked over.

“I hope I am not late,” he said, taking the seat across from Molly. “I was, er…shaving.”

He did not notice over his mounting panic, but Molly took a moment to respond and stumbled slightly as he did.

“You look dear, great—I mean, ah, you look quite nice.” He cleared his throat and turned around, revealing a long plastic bag draped over the back of his chair. He grabbed it and passed it over to Caleb.

“It’s your jacket,” he explained. “That you let me borrow. I had it cleaned for you, I hope that’s alright?”

“What?” Caleb blinked. “Oh, _ja_ , er, that is very nice of you, Mollymauk. Thank you.”   

“Yes, well. I figured it was the least I could do. You kept me from getting hypothermia that night, so I’d better make sure your clothes stay clean, right?”

“Ah…yes. Right.”

There was a pause, filled with background chatter and rustling as Caleb settled the bag over his own chair.  Then he faced Molly again, and they stared at each other wordlessly for a few moments. Caleb scrambled frantically for something to fill the silence, and unknown to him, Molly did as well.

“So, do you—”

“Any preference for—”

Another pause.

“You first,” they both said at exactly the same time.

A final pause, which Caleb broke by laughing awkwardly.

“You go,” he said. “What were you saying?”

“Well, nothing too dramatic,” Molly grinned, and then tried not to wonder why he said that. He cleared his throat and continued. “I was just going to ask if there was a drink you’d like. I did promise to treat you, right?”

“Oh,” said Caleb. “Oh, yes. Ah…I usually just get black coffee,” and balked when he saw the offended expression on Molly’s face. “Er…is that bad?” he asked.

“My dear sir,” Molly said, pressing a hand over his heart, “that is a crime. Come on, the Candleglow has _plenty_ to offer. Name any flavor combination you’d like, and I’m sure they can make it.”

Caleb seemed to consider this for a moment. “Anything?” he asked.

“Anything your heart desires, dear. Come on, is there anything you’ve always wanted to try before, or a drink you used to love? I bet there is.”

Caleb hesitated. Then he rubbed his chin. “You are going to think this is silly,” he said. “I had it mostly as a joke the first time.”

Molly’s eyes glittered and he leaned across the table. “Oh, dear. Now you’ve got my interest. Lay it on me.”

Caleb nodded. “It was something I had a long time ago, traveling with…with classmates. It was called a _Rüdesheimer Kaffee_. I think perhaps it is too early for anything alcoholic, but it was a very strong coffee drink, and then they added brandy, and whipped cream, and chocolate. And vanilla, I think, somewhere in there.”

He looked at Molly sheepishly. “A bit too fancy, though, _ja_?”

“It’s brilliant,” Molly said. “Gods, I want one right now.”

Caleb chuckled. “I do not know if they serve that sort of thing so far south, where we are,” he said. “And I would rather not have brandy before noon.”

“But vanilla and chocolate?” Molly asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now that sounds like _much_ more fun than a black coffee, my dear. Hang on,” he said, and stood up. “I’m going to have a word with Thaddeus. I’ll be right back.”

And before Caleb could say a word, Molly had run off and was in deep discussion with a halfling—Thaddeus—behind the counter. He watched them go back and forth for a few moments, Molly pointing at various jars and nodding excitedly as two cups were brought out and filled and adorned to his satisfaction.

He returned and placed their drinks on the tabletop, pushing one towards Caleb.

Whatever coffee was inside had been absolutely buried under a large swirl of whipped cream, topped with little shavings of chocolate. It smelled like vanilla.

“To friends who help you stay warm,” Molly beamed, and lifted his own cup.

Caleb managed a smile at that. “ _Ja_ , alright,” he agreed. “And to warm cafés.”

When the drink hit his lips, Caleb’s eyes went wide, He lowered the cup and blinked. There was a line of white foam on his upper lip. “ _Scheisse_ ,” he said, “this is much sweeter than what I remember.”

Molly wore an immense grin. “Just the way I like it,” he said, then chuckled. “Are you alright, Mister Caleb? Is it too sugary?”

Caleb shook his head and cleared his throat quietly. “No, no,” he said, “not at all. I am just unused to…to that taste. Give me a moment, do not worry.”

“Is it close to the…the rude drink, you mentioned before?”

Caleb actually snorted at that. “ _Rüdesheimer Kaffee_ ,” he corrected teasingly. “And it was not too bad. Of course, I appreciate the lack of alcohol—”

“A shame, but you’re welcome.”

“—and the taste it not _exactly_ the same, but it is quite nice. Quite nice indeed. Thank you.”

Molly beamed. “No problem, dear. Now, I assume we should talk about ourselves, yes? Especially since Jester and Fjord aren’t here to interrupt.”

“ _Ja_ , I suppose so. What do you propose?”

“I know virtually nothing about you dear.” Molly leaned back in his chair. “And I don’t remember talking _that_ much about myself, so why don’t we do a trade? I’ll ask you a question, and you ask me one in return.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “That sounds like a good start. Er…go ahead?”

Molly laughed. “Hmm…how about…do you like your job? I seem to recall Jester saying you work at the library.”

“That would be correct,” Caleb sighed. “It is nice, all in all. Easy work, very quiet, and usually I am left to my own reading. The only problem, I would say, is that they do not give me more hours.”

“Well, that must be their loss, dear. You seem like the library type, you know.”

“Do I?”

“All you need are glasses, and you’d be perfect. It’s a, ah, a good look on you.”

“Oh. Er…thank you.” Caleb fidgeted with the handle of his mug for a few moments before speaking. “So, do you like _your_ job? Being such a fancy singer at the Moondrop, and all?”

Molly grinned. “I’m definitely lucky to work somewhere so fun,” he conceded. “Though, and I think I’ve mentioned this before, I could stand to get into a little less trouble with the clientele.”

“Actually,” Caleb said, “I have been wondering about that. How is it that you are not swarmed on the streets? How is it that presses do not harass you, and all that? If you are so famed as Jester and Fjord said.” Then he balked and added, “That came out a bit, er…confrontational. Sorry.”

Molly waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, Mister Caleb, I got it. I think it’s mostly that…when I’m up on stage, I’m somebody else. I feel…like I was born to be the center of attention, in a weird way. And when I’m on the arm of some celebrity, or when I have a famous person on mine, I then for the rest of the world, I’m flashy and interesting. But when I’m alone…or in a quiet café out of the way like this…I don’t think I’m quite so interesting anymore. And not as recognizable. With someone famous, I’m exotic. I’m glamorous. Alone, I’m a random tiefling wandering through the streets of a very big city. Does that make sense?”

Caleb nodded slowly, and took another sip. “I think…I think that does.”

“Plus, I just have one of those faces that’s easy to mistake, you know?”

He scoffed. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely, dear. Now, my turn to ask. Hmm…can you tell me about how you and Nott met? She made…quite the impression on me during movie night a few days ago.”

Caleb smiled, and here there was no trace of strain or anxiety. “ _Ja,_ that _is_ Nott in a nutshell, isn’t it? And, well, we actually met in…not the most elegant of situations.”

“Please, _do_ go on.”

Caleb looked embarrassed, and he looked like he was trying not to show it. "She was...breaking into my apartment. In a different city, a few years ago."

Molly burst out laughing. "What,  _really_?" he asked. "How did—gods, how did  _that_ go?"

Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe it was Molly's grin, but Caleb found himself warming up just slightly. "There was a brief scuffle, and then we called a truce."

"A scuffle, eh? I can't imagine you held yourself well against a goblin."

Caleb leaned back into his chair and examined his fingernails. For just a second, for a moment so short that Molly barely caught it, a lighter-sized flame burst from Caleb’s thumb and went out.

It sent shivers down Molly’s spine. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind.

“Of course, it was mostly just a scare tactic,” Caleb added quickly. “I…would not have done well if she had gotten hurt.”

Molly laughed. “Glad to see there’s a bleeding heart under your mysterious magical past, then. Now, ask me a question!”

Caleb tapped his chin, and then brightened up. “Jester mentioned you had your own magic to me once, I think? Is that true?”

Molly hesitated, and Caleb almost apologized. But then the tiefling smiled faintly and nodded. “I do, yes,” he said. “It’s probably not the same as yours, though. Actually, I think I can almost guarantee that it isn’t.”

“Is it innate, then?” he asked. “Like some of Jester’s abilities?”

Molly shrugged. “Maybe?” he said. “I don’t know, I’ve been able to do it as long as I can remember,” he added lightly. “Now, what is your favorite book?”

Caleb blinked, the sudden shift in conversation catching him off-guard. “My favorite book?” he asked. “Er, why?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question, right? Sorry, did you want to stop, or—”

“Oh no, no,” Caleb said hastily. “No, it is alright. Er…favorite book, favorite book…there was a novel I read once before called _Before the River’s Dawn_ , about the creation myth of Wildemount. It is quite good, if you ever feel in the mood for history. And then there is _The Mountain Range of Gold_ , that one was also excellent, and is a three-part fictional series. Actually, the second book is widely regarded as the best in the trilogy but the author believes the last was her most praiseworthy work, even though I really believe the first volume…”

And as Caleb continued rambling, Molly couldn’t help but feel relieved that the other man so easily dropped the subject of magic. It had been a pleasure, really, to watch Caleb’s usually-stoic mask crumble under the weight of sugary coffee and now light up animatedly at the opportunity to discuss his favorite novels. And _most_ importantly, Molly was relieved that no sensitive topics would need airing out on a first date like this.

\--------------------------------------

Nott cracked open the kitchen window of the apartment and crawled through, as she always did. It wasn’t until she had made her way across the counter and hopped cheerfully onto the white-tiled floor did she see a large figure crawling on the ground in front of her.

She screamed, which was understandable, and Yasha looked up in panic.

“What the _fu_ —oh my gods.” Nott sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “Why are you in our _house_?”

Yasha stood up, dusting her sweatpants off as she did. “Caleb invited me over,” she said. “I helped him get ready for his date, and he said I could play with Frumpkin while he was gone.”

Nott only needed a second to go from terror to complacency. “Okay,” she sighed again. “Sure. Just…just warn a girl next time, alright? I thought there was a wolf in the living room.”

Yasha nodded immediately. “Sorry,” she said. “I can see why that would be startling.”

“Yeah, you think? And anyway, why were you on the floor?”

Yasha pointed at the couch. “Frumpkin ran underneath,” she said. “I was trying to get him out.”

Nott considered this for a moment. Then she unhooked her pouch from her belt, rolled up her sleeves, and marched towards the living room. “Hang on,” she said. “I’ll get ‘im for you.”

\--------------------------------------

“Is Beau coming this time?” Jester asked as she and Fjord exited the Sutan Learning Hall and walked onto the street. “She mentioned that she might this morning, did she say anything to you while you were at the gym?”

Fjord nodded. “She said she’d meet us at the address. You know, I never expected her to be the type to enjoy apartment-hunting so much. Especially when she isn’t even the one hunting.”

Jester grinned. “She likes shaking up landlords. I think it comes from being a rich guy’s daughter. It’s probably therapeutic, or something.”

“Well," he chuckled, "I’m not one to get in the way of someone working out their personal problems. Shall we head over now?”

Jester giggled and held out her elbow. “I think we shall, sir Fjord. I’m actually super-excited to see this one. It’s pet-friendly and everything.”

\--------------------------------------

By now, the morning mob had melted away into a rather bustling lunch crowd, that soon faded into the last stragglers of the late-afternoon. Molly, among other things, had learned about Caleb’s asshole of an apartment super, about Frumpkin the definitely-a-real-cat, and more about the underground smutty novel trade than he ever could have expected. Caleb, in turn, had learned about a number of the tiefling’s more riveting romantic entanglements, about Yasha and his friendship, and about life as a serial performer.

And as the empty cups of makeshift _Rüdesheimer Kaffee_ slowly grew stone-cold, Molly began to see glimmers of somebody else swimming under the surface of the scruffy wizard in front of him. Somebody who, though perhaps he himself didn’t remember, not only knew what it was like to be the center of attention, but also had _thrived_ there. And Caleb, plastic laundry bag pressed against his back, eventually began to notice a kindness and desperation for nothing but friendship, _real_ friendship, lurking within in the man across the table, whose entire life was seemingly an act.

And just as Molly was wrapping up the story of how Ornna and Gustav nearly launched the Moondrop into a civil war over a simple spat— _never underestimate that woman, Mister Caleb, she can be very persuasive when she wants to be_ —Molly’s phone started buzzing from its place on the tabletop.

They both glanced down. The screen read:

2:30PM

_YOU HAVE REHEARSAL AT 3. DO NOT FORGET OR YASHA WILL KILL YOU_

Molly sighed and silenced the alarm.

“Sorry, dear,” he said with an apologetic expression. “I should probably head out now. It…it truly has been lovely though. We should definitely do this again.”

Caleb smiled back. “I agree. I had a nice time also. You are…fun, Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

Molly grinned. “Really? Well, that is quite a high compliment coming from you. Oh!” he added, and hit himself in the forehead dramatically. “Before I forget, are you doing anything this Saturday?”

“Saturday?” Caleb echoed. “In two days, yes? Er…I do not believe I am. Why?”

“Well, the Moondrop is having a big celebration for its 25th anniversary. I was wondering if, ah, perhaps you’d like to come?” he fished around in his pocket and produced a small white card, trimmed with gold. “Here’s an invitation,” he said, and passed it across the table to Caleb. “We’ll all be there, Beau and Fjord and Yasha and I, plus Jester is coming too. You’re welcome to bring Nott along also. If you’re…interested?”

Caleb blinked a few times, and studied the card in his hands. “Ah,” he said. “Is it…a party, then?”

Molly quickly shook his head. “Not at all, dear. It’s a show. From all the singers and dancers, including yours truly. Limited social interaction, and I’m sure Jester would love to cover for you if anyone actually tried to mingle. She was going to ask you to go originally but, well, I wanted to. I thought it might be a good step in our friendship if I did. It would…mean a lot to me, if you would come and see me perform?”

Caleb nodded slowly to himself. Then he glanced back up at Molly and gave him a tentative grin. “That sounds…like a very good step indeed. I will…think it over, if that is alright?”

“Excellent!” Molly said, and gave Caleb a clap on the shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll send Nott the details if you decide to come? It starts at seven in the evening, so there’s plenty of time to get ready and all.” Molly stood up. “Er…see you later, then?”

Caleb nodded again, this time much faster. His smile grew only the smallest bit, but it was enough to make Molly’s heart soar with relief.

“See you later, Mister Mollymauk.”

“Wonderful, Mister Caleb. Tell Nott I said hello.”

And with that, the tiefling gave Caleb one more pat on the arm, and headed out the door.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 2:42 PM

**Molly Tealeaf:** Jester your idea worked theyre probably in  
**Jester Lavore:** of course it did! and I assume the date was good too?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it was wonderful dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** now you just gotta help them get ready and navigate fancy people during the event  
**Molly Tealeaf:** does that sound alright?  
**Jester Lavore:** molly are you kidding  
**Jester Lavore:** i would want nothing more than to do that  
**Jester Lavore:** oh my gods im going to put nott in a dress  
**Jester Lavore:** thank you for this gift  
**Molly Tealeaf:** go easy on them please I only just met em  
**Jester Lavore:** ive known them months  
**Jester Lavore:** im unleashing hell  
**Jester Lavore:** okay bye gotta go fjord says this apartment might be perfect and beau is gonna start haggling now k bye  
**Molly Tealeaf:** have fun dear make sure she doesn’t kill anybody

\--------------------------------------

Hard as he tried, Caleb’s heart refused to calm down as he rounded the hallway and made his way up the stairs to his apartment. He felt light-headed, and he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He felt anxious, as if he were expecting the clear skies overhead to suddenly turn grey, or as if he were about to get back scores from an exam he hadn’t aced after all.

And more than anything, he felt guilty.

He had _enjoyed_ himself, at the Candleglow, with this strange man that had suddenly catapulted his way into Caleb’s life. This technicolor whirlwind that would go from high-energy to soft and thoughtful at a moment’s notice. This odd newcomer that made Caleb laugh, that bought him a drink that reminded him of home, that had managed to carefully coax him into opening up about his life where most could never get a word out. After all, Jester had been trying for months.

But Caleb _shouldn’t_ have had fun. He wasn’t supposed to. He didn’t _deserve_ that kind of happiness, and he had left it all behind.

Worst of all, up until now, the feelings now bubbling dangerously in his chest had unswervingly belonged to somebody else. And after it had become clear that they would never be needed ever again, Caleb had locked them up in a box and pushed them down, deep down, so far down that he thought they would never see sunlight again.

Until, apparently, now.

He sighed as he unlocked the front door. Then he yelped in surprise and backed up. Three pairs of eyes instantly trained on him from down on the living room floor.

Frumpkin—in Yasha’s hands, being scratched by Nott—meowed.

“Hey, Caleb!” Nott said cheerily. “Did the date go well?”

“Did Molly like your shave?” Yasha chimed in immediately. “Was it alright?”

He blinked a few times. Then he rubbed his face and sighed. “Have you been in my house since I left?” he asked.

Yasha glanced at Nott, who shrugged, and then back to Caleb.

“Yes?”

He nodded and took his coat off. “Don’t you have rehearsal, or something now?”

Yasha’s face suddenly looked stricken. “Shoot,” she said, and stood up. “I forgot.”

She handed a mildly disgruntled-looking cat to Nott, and quickly started to gather her things. She draped her large shawl around her shoulders, strapped the sword to her back, and gave Caleb a clap on the arm. “See you later. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Er…no problem?”

And then she squeezed past, and bolted out the door.

“So anyways,” Nott said after Caleb had taken his shoes off and joined her on the floor. “ _Did_ the date go well?”

He nodded, and pulled Frumpkin into his lap. “I think it so,” he said, “though again, it was not a date. Mollymauk asked me to meet up once more, later this week.”

“Really?” Nott’s face lit up. “That’s great! Where?”

Caleb gave her a small smile. “At the Moondrop,” he said. “And you’re invited as well. How do you feel like being part of high society for a night?”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “Is that safe?” she asked.

Caleb considered the strange feeling of guilt weighing in his stomach. The dread he felt at having to interact with the upper crust. The terror of the past catching up to him.

And then he thought about the way Molly’s eyes had softened when he asked if Caleb would come see him perform. He thought about the distant glimmer of city lights at night as they stood up on the balcony together in the light snow. He thought about the way his mouth still tasted, ever-so-slightly, like vanilla and cream and chocolate shavings.

“It’s safe,” he said slowly. “And you know, I think the two of us need to just _live_ once in a while. _Ja_?”

Nott’s eyes glittered. “ _Ja_ ,” she echoed, and then grinned. “Yeah, _absolutely_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys!! I'm so so sorry this update took a million years (a month) to push through, but I've been super busy with work and writing other things that I shouldn't have started but did anyways. After everything from episode 26, I really lost some inspiration, but by god I've decided now that I need as much Molly as possible, so here we are! (Hopefully next update will be much, _much_ faster.
> 
> In the meantime, as always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you want to shout at me about critical role or writing, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all! <33333


	5. Ribbons of Green Silk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER GOT REALLY LONG FEATURING: Dress shopping, the postal system, tutor-time, introspection, makeup, and a thrilling performance
> 
> (also, important note! I gave up on the exandria days of the week, so those are back to our regularly scheduled gregorian calendar, though the months are going to be critical role months a la what I found on the wiki. Also im really tired but wanted to get this chapter up ASAP for y'all, so please excuse any typos!)

  **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 8:22 AM

 **(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** hey assholes whos excited for saturdaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy??!!!!!  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says ‘what is she going on about’  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** rude  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** im not going to elaborate until he apologizes  
**Babebarian:** caleb please say sorry  
**NottSoBrave:** he says “i dont understand why but i am sorry”  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** i forgive him  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** anyways im talking about the 25th anniversary!! Its going to be so fun molly told me all the juicy details  
**Seaman:** and wouldn’t tell ME anything about it  
**NottSoBrave:** what a dick  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** ANYWAYS, will we all be able to meet at some point? I know molly is performing  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** and fjord and beau and yasha have to work that night  
**Babebarian:** perhaps after the show when things have calmed down we can all meet  
**Seaman:** yeah sure

Nott swung her feet off the side of the counter as Caleb finished washing their dishes. “Nobody’s replying now,” she narrated. “Did you have something you wanted me to send?”

Caleb shut the faucet off and shook his head. “No, I am fine,” he said. “Tell me instead, have you and Jester decided on a time yet? Is your plan worked out?”

Nott nodded grudgingly. “She’s picking me up after her classes end. You’re super lucky that you’ve already got a suit, you know,” she sighed. “I _really_ don’t want to do this.”

Caleb gave her a sympathetic smile. “I am sure it will be fine. Jester wouldn’t subject you to too much, of that I am certain.”

Nott sagged against the cupboards. “But this is going to _suck_ ,” she groaned. “People are gonna be looking at me, touching me, what if they realize I’m a goblin? The gnome disguise is only an illusion, what if they accidentally feel my ears or my hands, or what if the spell ends before I remember to cast it again? What then?”

“There are definitely risks,” Caleb conceded. “But that should not stop you. You can set a reminder on your cell every hour, and I am sure Jester would be more than happy to make sure nobody gets too close. She is our friend, _ja_?”

“Yeah,” Nott muttered. “Gods, I didn’t think going to a fancy party would be this much trouble. I still don’t see why I couldn’t have just magicked a fake dress for myself and saved a us a whole lot of trouble.”

“Jester wanted to treat you,” he reminded her. “And this is an experience you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Even more, you deserve something nice. It is not every day one of us gets to be fancy, you should enjoy it. That is what you said when Jester dragged me out to the Tri Spires for dinner, _ja_?”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “Is this revenge, then? Are you getting back at me for that?”

Caleb grinned. “Not at all,” he said. “This is me giving you moral support and wishing that all goes well. _Ich drücke dir die Daumen._ Fingers crossed.”

\--------------------------------------

Molly awoke to Fjord standing next to his bed, poking him in the arm. The half-orc was saying something, garbled and completely intelligible, and Molly had to sluggishly shove his hand away and pull the blankets over his head and ignore Fjord’s impatient sighs for a solid thirty seconds before he felt awake enough to reemerge and attempt communication.

“Gods, _what_?” he muttered. “What’s it?”

“I need you to stop by Crute’s apartment before you go to work and give him my letter,” Fjord said. “It’s on the kitchen table. Can you do that?”

“Letter?” Molly mumbled. “What letter?”

Fjord rolled his eyes. “My notice of leave letter, remember? Because I’m moving out next month? Like I told you last night?”

“Oh. _That_ letter.”

“Yes, Molly. Can you do that?”

He rolled over and sighed dramatically. “I _suppose_ so,” he said, “but I can’t say I’m thrilled about it. Am I not a good roommate, Fjord Tough? Have I not been more than wonderful? Are you abandoning me now, in this, my time of greatest need?”

Fjord shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Molly, you know I’m sorry, I really am, it’s not you. Jester ‘n I have been looking forward to this for a long time, yeah? And when we found the perfect apartment we knew it was the time and I know it leaves you out by yourself, but—”

Molly rolled back over and took Fjord’s hand. “I’m kidding, dear.” His tone was still sleepy, but now light and laced with warmth. “Of course I’m very happy for you both, I’ll give Crute the letter. Besides, when you’re gone then there won’t be any pushy half-orcs to prod me awake every morning.”

Fjord smiled. “Thanks, Molly.”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out, go to school, or whatever. I still have two hours before I need to be at the Moondrop.”

Fjord laughed. “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

And just as he was about to walk through the doorway, he paused and turned and said, “I’m gonna miss this, Mol.”

Molly pulled the blankets up again. “No,” he said. “Too early for emotions. Go away, try again later.”

Fjord snorted and left. A few seconds later, the front door clicked shut.

Eventually, Molly managed to close his eyes.

\--------------------------------------

Shortly after Jester waltzed out of their apartment, pink backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder and humming cheerfully to herself all the way, Beau got up.

She slowly got out of bed and trudged into the kitchen, leaned against the counter and started sorting through mail as she waited for the coffeemaker to get its shit together.

“Boring…boring…boring,” she mumbled, tossing letters aside. She made a mental note to make sure Jester saw the one from Sieversii’s Office of the Bursar, immediately ignored a card saying she was overdue at the dentist, and then flipped to the next message and froze.

This envelope, brown and plain, was almost completely blank. Almost, except for “Beauregard” scrawled across the front in lazy, looping script.

She bit her lip. She thought for a moment. She walked over to the sink, held the envelope over it just in case, and carefully tore it open from the bottom.

A single piece of paper slid out.

She stared at it, lying motionless in the basin for a good minute. She gingerly picked it up and began to read.

And then her eyes narrowed. Her teeth clenched, her mouth curled into a scowl. As she continued reading her anger grew, swelled, expanded until it burst in a thunderous explosion and she screamed with rage, kicked the dishwasher, crumpled the letter into a tight ball and whirled around and chucked it across the room. She pounded a fist against the side of the sink and stared furiously into the drain.

The coffeemaker _dinged._ She glowered at it, and then sighed.

She reached for the dishrack and found her mug, light blue ceramic.

She poured herself a cup.

\--------------------------------------

“Okay, Nott!” Jester grinned as she climbed out of the car. “Welcome to the Tri-Spires! That tower over there, that one’s the Triumph Chime, where Caleb and Fjord and Molly and I had dinner on Monday. That one’s the Zauber Spire, it’s got fancy wizards in it and stuff, and that’s the Constellation Bridge. We’re going to one of the smaller boutiques, though,” she continued, gesturing to the bustling shops and storefronts around them. “I’ve been there a couple times before, they’re super nice. And you’re in gnome disguise, so it should be fine!”

Nott tugged uneasily on her coat. “But the illusion will cover everything up,” she said. “What if the people working there want to see me try something on, or what if they touch me and their hands disappear? That wouldn’t end well, Jester.”

She gave Nott a pat on the arm. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Trust me?”

Nott looked conflicted for only a moment. She exhaled and nodded slowly. “Alright, Jester. I trust you.”

\--------------------------------------

“So,” said Yasha as she leaned against the costume rack and watched Mollymauk apply a generous layer of sparkling powder to his eyelids. “How was the, er...the coffee time?”

Molly snorted, launching a cloud of glitter into the air. “The coffee time?” he asked.

Yasha shrugged. She saw Molly reach for a tiny brush that was indistinguishable from an army of tiny brushes on the makeup table and press it to his eyelashes. “The event with Caleb?” she tried. “I don’t know, I would have said ‘date’ but he seemed adamant yesterday that I did not use that label.”

Molly frowned at Yasha in the mirror. “Really?” he asked. “Did he say why?”

Yasha shrugged again. “I left his home in a hurry. If he did, I did not catch it.”

There was a soft chuckle at that. “I’ve never seen you late for something before,” Molly quipped, “especially when you were harping on me for being on time. I’m ashamed for you, Yasha.”

She snorted and threw a stray sequin at his head, which hit his chair and vanished under the dresser. “Hush,” she said. “And tell me about your not-date, already. How was it? Did you have a good time? Was it everything you hoped?”

Molly sighed and leaned back to examine his eyeshadow. “Sort of,” he said. “It’s definitely confirmed that I am, in fact, head-over-heels for him. But I know it’s much too soon, and I’m fairly certain he harbors no such feelings in return.”

“Perhaps then you just need more time,” Yasha suggested. “Or maybe you should turn your affections elsewhere. I like him but he is a strange one, that Caleb. And that is coming from me.”

“I can’t just stop my emotions like that, Yasha. And besides, I wouldn’t want to. Even if he doesn’t ‘like me back’ it wouldn’t matter. Any suffering I face now is nothing in comparison to the darkness of not being able to love him.”

There was a brief pause.

“That was from _Tusk Love_ , dear.”

“I know. I can’t tell if I want to punch you or clap.”

“I think I make a pretty good Guinevere.”

“You have nothing on Jester.”

There was another pause.

“Yeah, alright, that’s fair,” Molly conceded, and went back to studying his reflection. “Anyways, I do believe that. I’m just going to keep doing my best, and so long as it doesn’t make him uncomfortable, or ruin anything, I don’t see what the harm is. Let me _feel_ , Yasha. Let me _love_.”

“You should listen to him,” said Mona from the mirror next to them. “If you don’t he’ll just keep complaining.”

“Endlessly,” agreed Yuli, standing behind Mona and doing her sister’s hair. “Hey, when are we going to meet this mystery man of yours, anyways?”

“He seems a much better sort than the kind you usually end up with,” added Mona.

“Soon,” said Molly. “Actually, he’s coming to the anniversary tomorrow. Maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of him then?”

“Not good enough,” said Yuli. “I want to _meet_ him.”

“We should invite him backstage,” Yasha suggested. “He knows us both already as is, we can offset any awkwardness, yes?”

Molly blinked a few times. “Mm...maybe,” he said. “We’ll see. It’s a bit early to introduce him to the family, isn’t it?”

“He’s the love of your life,” Yasha teased. “Doesn’t that help?”

“Oh it helps,” said Molly. He leaned into the mirror, and studied his expression. He liked to think his tattoos were distracting, eyes made him hard to read.

He sighed, and lifted his brush. “We’ll just have to see if that’s enough.”

\--------------------------------------

“Okay,” said Jester as she pulled the curtain closed. “You can drop the illusion now! It’s just us.”

Nott breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly, the appearance of a small gnome girl with curly red hair and bright blue eyes melted away. Now there was a little goblin in a ratty hoodie standing in the middle of the large fitting room.

“Thank the gods,” she said. “I got really worried when that half-elf tried to touch my illusion-dress. Thanks for distracting her, by the way.”

Jester beamed. “Of course! I promised I would protect you, yes? Now come on. Which one do you want to try on first?”

Nott surveyed their haul, which barely fit on the available hooks.

“We can start with the pink one?” she suggested. “I don’t know, I’ve never done this before. And I still don’t see the point in getting a dress, Jester, especially when nobody will actually see the real thing.”

Jester shook her head. “I want you to have something nice!” she said. “You’re a pretty girl, you need something pretty of your own to go with it. Not Caleb’s old clothes.”

Nott scoffed. “I’m not a pretty girl,” she said. “I’m a _goblin_.”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “So what? What difference does that make?”

Nott gave an incredulous laugh. “It makes the whole difference!” she said. “Goblins can’t be pretty, that’s ridiculous. They’re horrible, nasty, awful creatures that live in caves and eat children, everybody knows that. A goblin is, is, is disgusting.”

“No way,” said Jester. “That’s not true at all. You aren’t disgusting, and you’re not nasty or terrible either!”

“But I’m still a goblin,” Nott argued. “And there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll always be a goblin.”

“Maybe so,” Jester said, and here she put a hand on Nott’s shoulder. “Maybe that’s the case. But you’re not _only_ a goblin. You’re _also_ Nott! And Nott is kind, and funny, and lovable. And if she gives it a chance, I think _she’d_ see that she can be pretty too.”

Nott bit her lip. She looked up, met Jester’s pleading expression, and relented.

“Okay,” she sighed. “Okay. I’m not completely convinced, but I’ll try.” She slowly reached for one of the dresses, and turned back to Jester with a hesitant smile. “Help me with the zipper?”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb looked up from his book—a particularly promising history detailing the rise of the Age of Arcanum—as a green, sheepish-looking man in a bright pink scarf walked up to his counter and tapped lightly on the bell.

It gave a faint, twinkling _ding._

“Er...hi, Caleb,” said Fjord, putting the yarn out of his mouth. “How’re you today?"

He blinked. He stared at Fjord for a few silent, awkward seconds.

“Do not take this the wrong way,” Caleb said eventually, sliding a bookmark between the pages and putting the volume aside, “but what are you doing here? Doesn’t Sieversii have a much better library than this? One exclusive to students?” he added with only mild resentment.

“I’m, uh, I’m not actually here for books,” Fjord said. “I was actually meanin’ to ask you for your rates. Sorry I’m buggin’ you for such a small thing, I would’ve texted but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have gotten a response.”

Caleb blinked again. “Excuse me, back up a second,” he said. “Rates?”

Fjord raised an eyebrow. “Uh...yeah? Sorry, are you not taking on more at the moment, or…?”

Caleb leaned forward. He wore a thoroughly bewildered expression on his face. “Fjord,” he said slowly, “I have no _idea_ what you are talking about. Is Jester involved somehow?”

Fjord nodded. Now he looked just as confused as the wizard.

“Okay then,” Caleb said. “In that case, you should start again slowly. _What_ is it you are here for?”

Fjord reached into his bag and produced a thick spiral notebook. He placed it onto the counter between them both.

“I need your help with classes,” he said. “I have a hard time understandin’ arithmetic and magical theory, and I was hoping you’d have some spare time in your weekly schedule to take me on as a student.”

“Oh,” said Caleb. “Oh, tutoring, _ja_ sure, that is absolutely doable. But what did you mean before, asking me about my ‘rates’?”

Fjord frowned. “How much you _charge,_ Caleb. I might not be able to match what Jes pays you, but—”

Caleb held up a hand. He met Fjord’s eyes. “Jester does not pay me,” he said evenly. “I never asked her to.”

Fjord blinked. He stared at Caleb. He took in the dark circles under the man’s eyes, the tattered nature of his coat. He thought about his own apartment, where he lived with Mollymauk, and then about Caleb and Nott’s home. He thought about his job at Fletch, and he thought about his salary.

“I’m paying you,” he said, and watched Caleb’s eyes go wide. “Seriously,” he added. “Whatever you ask. Name the price.”

\--------------------------------------

"Is it a good idea to buy this much candy?" Yasha asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Do you not have to worry about your health?"

Molly spun around with an armful of caramels, pure glee plastered across his face. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "Dear, you can't worry about that sort of thing. We've got a big performance coming up soon, yes? I need all the energy I can get. And sugar is definitely a high provider of energy; I think Jester told me that a few days ago."

Yasha's expression did not change. "Are you certain?" she asked. "Jester is not...a reliable source, here."

Molly shook his head. "She's always reliable," he said. "And, you know, after she told me about this sweets shop, I just  _knew_ I had to share this experience with you. So, really, you should be honored."

"I should be honored you dragged me here during our thirty-minute break to come watch you buy candy?"

Molly strode over, and dumped the caramels into her grasp.

"No, dear. I dragged you here to help me  _carry_ the candy. You don't expect me to bring it all back by myself, do you?"

Yasha sighed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her next words:

"You are a strange best friend."

Molly beamed. "Absolutely!" he said. "but I'm  _your_ strange best friend."

\--------------------------------------

Nott arrived through the front door that evening, which almost scared Caleb out of his mind as he stood in the kitchen, trying to light the stove with a gentle application of Burning Hands.

“ _Scheisse, spatz_ ,” he said, extinguishing his fingers. “I thought you were a robber.”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Nott. She wore a wide and giddy grin. “I just didn’t want to rumple my _dress_ coming through the window.”

Caleb’s face lit up. “Your dress? You got one?”

Nott proudly thrust forward a fabric bag almost as tall as she was. “I did!” she beamed. “And I really have to say...it was a lot of fun. I felt like a real girl, for the first time, you know?”

Caleb gave her a soft smile. “You’ve always been a real girl, Nott. But I am happy that you had that feeling. Can I see it?

She quickly shook her head. “Nope. You’re not allowed yet. Not ‘till after Jester does my hair and makeup. It’s a whole look.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow, but the grin stayed warmly in place. “If you say so,” he conceded. “Color me excited for tomorrow, then.”

“I’m really excited too,” Nott said. “Thank you for inviting me along.”

He chuckled. “Of course,” he said. “You are my family, Nott. I would want nobody else at my side.”

\--------------------------------------

Jester arrived home to the smell of Marquesian takeout. Beau was seated at the dinner table, shoveling curried chicken into her mouth.

“Oh, Jester,” she said, muffled. “Welcome back.”

Jester shook the snow off her boots and hung her coat up. “I’m _starving_ ,” she said. “Scoot, let me at that bread.”

After Jester skipped over and began to eat, Beau stared into her bowl, seemingly thinking hard about something. After a moment, she suddenly looked up and said quickly, as if trying to prevent herself from stalling, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “Sure. What’s up?”

Beau hesitated. “Do you...uh...do you like your mom?”

Jester laughed. “Uh...yeah?” She raised an eyebrow. “Of course I do, she’s my mom! And she loves me very much.”

“How, uh, how do you know?”

Jester put her fork down. “I dunno,” she mused. “I guess ‘cause she pays attention to me, and talks to me whenever she has time, and gives me lots of cool stuff and cares about me. She wouldn’t have sent me away if she didn’t love me, right? I could have been in super bad trouble if I had stayed home, after all.”

Beau contemplated this. She took a slow bite of chicken.

“I guess,” she said eventually. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Why’re you asking?” Jester leaned in. “Is there something going on?”

“No, no,” Beau shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. Just curious, I guess. Hey, pass me that bread, you can’t eat all of it!”

Jester giggled. “I bet I could,” she said, but handed it over. Then she met Beau's gaze with a soft expression. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" she asked. "We’re besties, that’s what they do.”

“Is it?”

“Absolutely.”

Beau nodded, and gave Jester a small smile. “Good to know, then,” she said. “I guess I’ll keep that in mind.”

\--------------------------------------

 

Today | 9:25 PM

**Molly Tealeaf:** hey there mister caleb!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive been told now that you never actually will read these  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but i figured id stop by just in case you do!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i just wanted to let you know how excited i am that you’ll be seeing me sing  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for real I mean, not just karaoke while im drunk  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and yesterday  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it was a ton of fun!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you again so much for agreeing to get coffee with me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and lending me your coat  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i can’t wait for next time!!

Today | 10:03 PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** also, this means nothing to you but  
**Molly Tealeaf:** eating thirteen lollipops in one sitting, no matter how amusing it is for everyone watching  
**Molly Tealeaf:** not actually that good of an idea as you'd imagine  
**Molly Tealeaf:** so, uh  
**Molly Tealeaf:** just so you know

\--------------------------------------

Caleb adjusted his tie and sighed.

Now it was Saturday afternoon, a few hours before the performance. He was seated on Jester’s bed, glancing slack-jawed at the room around him, all high windows and thick curtains, plush carpeting under his feet and towering bookshelves to his left, gold leaf on the doors and dresser drawers. It would have been something out of a TV program on millionaire’s homes and lifestyles, if not for the pile of stuffed animals on the bed, the sea of beanbag chairs and cushions on the floor, and the dozens upon dozens of drawings and posters taped along the walls.

“I just got two more,” Jester had said cheerfully before shoving Nott into the bathroom. “One for _Shallow Breaths_ and one for _Scent of the Sea._ Plus I added some more drawings, feel free to look! I’m very proud.”

And then she had closed the door behind her, leaving Caleb in his tan tweed jacket alone on the bed.

He could hear the girls giggling in the distance, the sound of a blow-dryer occasionally drowning them out.

He fidgeted with his sleeve. He stared at the windows. He put his head in his hands and leaned his elbows against his thighs. He groaned and rubbed his temples.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, staring at the red carpet beneath him. “Why on earth are you here? What made you think this would be a good idea? _Götterverdammt,_ this is a high-class party you are about to attend, for the city’s elite!” He rubbed his chin and groaned. “And look at you now, with your shaved face, your neat hair and fancy attire. You are going to get recognized, you _imbecile._ What if somebody you know is there? Fuck, what if _they_ are there? You don’t know? You were too stupid to ask what kind of people would attend. What if they are in town? What if they decide come? What then?”

He gestured blindly around. “And look at all this,” he continued. “ _Look_ at all this. You were supposed to leave this _behind_. You are garbage, you do not deserve such well-to-do and kind friends, who let you into their homes and, and, and _buy you clothing_! How could you let Jester do that? You do not deserve this! You should be in your filthy apartment, alone, doing nothing but _research._ This is a waste of time and a terrible risk.”

There was a sound, muffled by the bathroom door. He glanced up in a panic, half-expecting the girls to be standing there and staring at him. But the room was empty. He heard them giggle, and relaxed.

“Listen to that,” he muttered. “Hear how happy they are? Not for you, Widogast. Not for you. You should have encouraged Nott to come alone. Why even bother with this? You should just go home, now, while you still have the chance.”

He flopped backwards onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, a high arch far above, reminding him again of how small and insignificant he was.

“You are a fool,” he murmured, and ran his fingers through his hair. He stretched his arm out and stared at the back of his hand. “Why are you here?” he asked nobody. “What made you do this? What is the _point_ —”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something slip out of his jacket pocket and fall onto the bed. His brow furrowed. He felt around on the covers and his palm brushed a folded-up piece of paper.

He gently brought it closer; he held it up. He read:

_Thank you again, Mister Caleb!  
A bit of warmth in the cold is all we need sometimes, eh?_

This handwriting was more of a scrawl, as if formed by a grip unused to writing but determined nonetheless. It was actually almost intelligible, and took Caleb a few moments to properly understand.

When he did, he realized that it—along with the _Mister Caleb_ —was completely, undeniably, Mollymauk.

He let his hand drop onto the blankets, and brought his other arm around to cover his eyes.

“You are a fool,” he muttered again. “A damn fool.”

This time, it lacked venom. If anything it sounded more resigned than angry.

\--------------------------------------

Molly stared at his reflection in the mirror.

The rest of the group milled about behind him in various states of preparation for the big evening—Gustav fretting over his top hat, Desmond carefully tuning the instruments, Ornna opening and closing her fan, Bosun helping Kylre into his costume and the Knot Sisters braiding Toya’s hair.

Molly looked down at his costume, a flowing red cloak adorned with alchemical symbols and gaudy colored shapes. It had taken days, weeks, _months_ to complete, and he was rather proud. He’d never played a powerful sorcerer before; usually he didn’t act at all. But rehearsals had gone well, and he couldn’t wait to show it all off tonight.

Still, something fluttered uneasily in his chest.

Molly would be the first person to admit he was a peacock that adored showing off for posh crowds. But Caleb would be here tonight. This would be the first time he’d watch Molly perform. Would he like it? Would he be impressed? Entertained? Or would he think Molly was shallow, too flamboyant, too flashy, too dramatic?

Molly ran a hand through his hair. Then he kicked himself mentally and reached for the hair gel. As he squeezed the pale blue substance into his palm and rubbed his hands together, he looked back at his reflection and paused.

What did he want? He’d told Yasha he would be happy just being allowed to stand by Caleb as a friend. Was that true? Was that right? Was that _okay_?

He sighed and pushed the gel into his hair.

What did he _want_?

He didn’t know. And somehow, that was the worst part.

\--------------------------------------

Jester burst out of the bathroom, swinging an anxious-looking Nott behind her by the hand.

“We’re ready!” she declared loudly. “Caleb, get up and tell us that we are pretty!”

He pushed himself up. His eyes softened, and a smile crept across his face.

Jester was wearing a long, pale pink dress that seemed to shimmer as she moved. There were no sleeves, and the neckline curved down, stopping just short of indecency, ending at playful with a refined edge. She wore long white gloves, and a necklace of pearls, and a delighted grin.

Nott stood next to her in a bright yellow sundress with a cream-colored sash around the middle. It ended just below her knees, fanning out and twirling slightly as she fidgeted. Her eyes were expectant, and nervous.

“You both look wonderful,” Caleb said. “Absolutely spectacular.”

Nott glowed under his praise. “Thanks, Caleb.” Her hesitant smiled turned giddy. “I feel pretty spectacular too.”

Jester pumped a fist into the air. “I knew it would be amazing!” she beamed. “And now it’s time to _party_!"

\--------------------------------------

 

Today | 5:51 PM

**Jester Lavore:** mission accomplished molly  
**Jester Lavore:** caleb and nott are in some choice fashions  
**Jester Lavore:** we’ll head over soon  
**Molly Tealeaf:** youre a doll, dear  
**Jester Lavore:** im not a doll im a chic god  
**Molly Tealeaf:** right of course  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you so much again for doing this  
**Jester Lavore:** HA! any excuse to shop  
**Jester Lavore:** nott would NEVER let me put her in a dress if she didn’t have to anyway  
**Jester Lavore:** so really its perfect  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it truly is, thank you again  
**Molly Tealeaf:** hey can I ask you one more favor?  
**Jester Lavore:** of course! anything for you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** excellent

\--------------------------------------

Caleb wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved. Upon arrival, Jester had immediately dragged them past Yasha at the front entrance and up the carpeted stairs, away from the bar and between the tables and around the stage so quickly that none of the guests had even seen them for more than a few seconds. No chance of being recognized, that way, or any need for socialization.

But she had done so because they were going to the performer’s lounge to see Molly and his coworkers before the show. Quite a need for socialization, in that department.

“Relax,” she whispered, pausing just outside the door. “They’re all super-duper nice, and he’s already told them all about you both. Even you,” she added with a grin to Nott. “They know you’re a goblin, but it’s alright. And they won’t say a word.”

“Good,” Nott sighed. “The less we talk about it, the better.”

Caleb gave her a pat on the head. “I am sure they would have loved you on sight, disguise or no. It is me that I am worried about, Jester, I don’t know how to _speak_ to these people! I have never even _met_ them before, how am I supposed to behave? Will they try and make light conversation or should I not speak unless spoken to, or—"

She snorted. “What kind of dumb rule is that? Just be yourself! C’mon, it’ll be fun. Molly’s dying for you to meet them.”

And then she knocked on the door and pressed her cheek against the wood and called, “Guys! It’s Jester and Caleb and Nott! Put your pants on, we’re coming in!”

She turned the handle and yanked it open.

Ten pairs of eyes at assorted heights and varying sizes immediately trained on them. There was a half-elf in a frock coat standing next to a shorter balding man surrounded by a loop of floating instruments. A woman with dark skin and fiery hair, draped in gold and crimson fabrics, lounged next to a rack of costumes. Two identical halflings in shimmering green bodysuits looked up from behind a table covered in makeup and hair products. A half-orc was seated on the carpet, adjusting a drum, and tiny flaxen-haired dwarf girl in a simple white dress was perched atop an enormous, bright green, hulking mass of a lizard-man in the corner by the window.

Mollymauk, seated on the arm of a couch, beamed.

“Jester! Caleb and Nott too, hey, you made it!” He immediately stood up and ushered them over to the sofa. “I’m so glad you guys stopped by, I really wanted to introduce you to the troupe.”

Gustav gave them a warm smile as they sat. “Lovely to see you again, Miss Lavore,” he said to Jester, tipping his hat. Then he turned to Caleb and Nott and bowed. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure yet. My name is Gustav Fletching, master of ceremonies. Come on, you lot!” He grinned, waving at the rest. “Introduce yourselves!”

“Ornna,” said the redheaded woman. “It's pleasure.”

“Bosun,” said the half-orc. “The Breaker. Call me Bo.”

“Mona,” said one of the halfling women.

“Yuli,” said the other. “We’re the Knot sisters.”

“Desmond Moondrop,” said the man surrounded by musical instruments. “I’m a bard.”

There was a tremor from the corner of the room, and then a deep, gravelly voice leaked from the mouth of the lizard-man. “Kylre,” he said.

“Toya,” whispered the dwarf sitting on top of him.

“And I’m Mollymauk,” Molly grinned cheekily. “But you knew that already. Yasha’s included in the troupe too, since she hangs around us so much, but you also knew that already too.”

Jester nudged Caleb and Nott. “Go on,” she hissed. “Introduce yourselves!”

“I’m Nott,” said Nott. “The Brave. But there’s no comma.”

There was a chorus of “hellos,” and Bosun laughed. “Perfect!” he said. “We have the same middle name.”

Then they all looked expectantly at Caleb. He managed to clear his throat and said, only slightly shakily, “Caleb. Caleb Widogast.”

“Ah,” Yuli grinned. “ _You’re_ Caleb, then?”

Ornna chuckled. “You're the mysterious man who—”

She was cut off as Molly suddenly threw his arms out and pulled her in tightly by the shoulders. “Anyways, he said loudly, "it was lovely of you three to stop by! The show’s on in half an hour and we’ll be a bit busy from now on, but maybe we can all talk some more after the show. Drinks included.”

Desmond glanced at his watch. “Actually, Molly, we could still spare a few—”

“We’re very busy!” Molly declared again, very pointedly. “ _After_ the show.”

The troupe exchanged glances. A few members tried very hard to hide their sniggering.

“Of course,” said Gustav generously. He turned back to the trio and gave another wide bow. “I’m delighted to have met you all. Do stop by again, a friend of Molly’s is a friend of ours, and I’d love to get to know you better, Ms. Nott and Mr. Caleb.”

They both nodded, and before they could say a word were swept up by Jester as she rose and started ushering them out the door. Just before leaving, she turned back and called, “Break a leg, you guys! I can’t wait to see the show!”

“You all seem really cool!” Nott added, sticking her head around Jester. “Nice meeting you!”

“Er…I as well,” Caleb said, and then kicked himself, and then tried again. “I mean, I enjoyed this.”

And then Jester slammed the door, and they all stood in the empty hallway for a few beats of silence.

“That was…peculiar,” Caleb said eventually. “They are a, a colorful lot.”

“They’re good people,” Jester said cheerily. “And they’re Molly’s family, you know?”

“I liked ‘em,” grinned Nott. “I wanna to talk to them some more.”

“I bet we can,” Jester agreed. “But after the show.” She started marching down the corridor, and the other two scrambled to follow her. “C’mon!” she declared. “Let’s go find a table with a good view, before they’re all gone.”

\--------------------------------------

Beau dropped her elbows onto Fjord’s counter and raised an eyebrow. “Hey,” she said when he failed to notice her. “Hey, Fjord. When’re you gonna take your break?”

He turned around, wiping a glass cup, and glanced wearily at the packed crowd wedged into the bar around them, dancing to loud, bass-heavy music or playing pool to the side or occupying the booths beyond maximum capacity.

“Dunno,” he said. “There’s a lot of people here tonight.”

“Yeah,” sighed Beau, “bar discounts’ will do that. But we gotta take a break at some point, right? Everybody’s been hypin’ this thing at the Moondrop up for ages, we _can’t_ miss it. Jes promising to illegally tape it for us ain't enough.”

Fjord nodded. “I’ll see if I can’t get someone to fill in for me later,” he said. “And you’re right, if Molly hears I never got a chance to see it he’d be crushed.”

“You think?” Beau asked.

Fjord laughed. “I know.”

The conversation went on hold for a moment, as two people approached the bar and rattled off an order. Beau idly picked at her fingernails.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” said Fjord. “Anyways, how’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a few.”

Beau snorted. “We were at the gym together like…three days ago,” she said. “And I helped you finalize your apartment decision with Jester. Are you forgetting me in your old age already?”

Fjord rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant,” he said. “C’mon, spill. What’s up?”

Beau paused. She seemed to briefly wrestle with something, a mental debate that came and went in a flash

“Not much,” she said, and pointed to a clear bottle behind Fjord. “Hey, pour me one of those? It’s gonna be a long night and I think I need some help.”

Fjord raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” he asked. “You're on the clock and It’s like…seven-thirty. Isn’t that a bit early?”

Beau shook her head. “No way,” she said. “Alcohol will only enhance my performance right now, and seven-thirty just means that night is young. And ripe with opportunity.”

\--------------------------------------

Jester had found a circular table near the middle of the crowd, stage-side views having already been claimed. The three of them now sat together in tall, cushioned chairs, hands neatly folded in their laps—Caleb—or fingers drumming absent-mindedly on the white cloth—Jester and Nott. Thankfully, which Caleb noted as he made furtive glances around the large hall, there was nobody here that he recognized. There had been a brief moment, when his eyes caught an older man with a wrinkled face and long beard, where he almost had a heart attack on the spot—

—until he realized the eyes and nose were different. Eventually, he calmed down.

Around the large floral centerpiece, Caleb also sized up the other couples sitting at their table. There was elf with a human, and a pair of gnomes. The closest one, a woman with pale blonde hair and rosy cheeks, gave Nott a pleasant smile when they noticed each other.

“ _Excited for the show_?” she asked, quite kindly, in Gnomish. “ _My husband and I came a long ways out to come see it._ ”

Nott stared at her. Her eyes darted back and forth and behind her, Jester and Caleb began to panic silently.

“Uh…” she said. Under the table, Jester kicked Caleb’s leg in a _you’re-magic-you-have-to-do-something_ sort of way. He nudged her back with a _I-don’t-have-any-spells-that-can-work-fast-enough-to-help-fuck._

Nott cleared her throat. “Ah…actually,” she said, “I’m real sorry, but I don’t speak Gnomish.”

The woman blinked. “Oh, shoot, I’m the one that’s sorry,” she said quickly. “It was my fault for assuming.”

“No, no,” said Nott. “It’s alright. It was a reasonable assumption, Miss. It’s just that I, uh, I was…uh…”

She quickly glanced back at Caleb and Jester, who both shrugged.

“I was raised by halflings!” Nott declared. “Yes, that’s it. Adopted. Never knew my birth parents, it’s quite sad really. But I love my halfling family, and we’re very close.”

“Is that so?” The woman smiled. “Well then, that’s nice. I lived with my adopted brother, you know. He couldn’t make it tonight, but I’m sure he would have loved to meet you, Miss…?”

“Oh!” Nott smiled and gave her a short wave. “I’m, uh, Bren,” she said. “Bren…Tough.”

“Bren Tough?” The other gnome, a man with short brown hair and glittering eyes, raised an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty interesting name.”

“Thanks,” said Nott. “It belongs to me. What are, uh, what are your names?”

“Oh,” the woman smiled. “Of course, where are my manners? I’m—”

The chandeliers went out. A spotlight suddenly appeared on the grand stage, illuminating a single man in a long frock coat and a tall top hat. He bowed deeply, spreading his arm aside and lowering his hat as he did.

“Esteemed Guests,” he called in a rich, musical tone. “I extend my humble gratitude for gracing us with your presence, and I welcome you to the 25th Anniversary celebration of the Fletching & Moondrop. Our performers have worked tirelessly for months to prepare a unique and spectacular exhibition of culture and music and art for you all tonight, and I firmly believe that it will be to your liking. Grant us your imaginations this eve but a trifle bit of time. Sit back, have some dinner, and enjoy the show.”

And then he bowed again, and in a sudden plume of purple, glittering smoke, he was gone.

The curtains pulled open, and revealing a single man dressed all in blue, old-fashioned minstrel’s clothing, a large feathered cap perched upon his head. He had a fiddle in his hands, and as the light moved towards him, he began to play.

 _Ah,_ came Gustav’s voice from somewhere unseen, _I see you’ve already met Desmond. He’ll be part of our story tonight, so keep a wily eye for the shifting fool. But first, I will tell you the tale of two sisters of the Fey._

Desmond bowed his head, slowly moved away from the center. And as he retreated, three long ribbons of green silk unfurled from the ceiling and gently caressed the wooden stage.

_Lost without form into the mazes of the underworld, there, where the body would break, they found a teacher in a mystical serpent. And the gift they received, was the ability to bend with this maze that had captured them, and slither their way back to the surface, to reclaim their place in the world._

A hand emerged just into view, along the top of the silk. It swayed gently, as if stirred by a breeze. And then another appeared, and another, and another, and then two bodies adorned in glittering emerald scales dropped down, catching themselves against the ribbons and twirling in the air. Their faces turned towards the audience, and then to each other.

_May I present to you: Mona and Yuli, the Knot Sisters._

The sisters began to move slowly, bending their limbs, arching their backs and intertwining their torsos in impossible formations, dangling in the air supported by nothing but ribbons, and one another. And as the fiddle’s melody, now sourceless and swelling, building, crescendoing and accelerating in tempo and vigor, the sisters began to spin wildly, press tightly, drape their arms together and move unison, seemingly shifting into a single being of whirling, fluid scales and shimmering, verdant green.

Next to him, Caleb saw Nott wince at their display of impossible flexibility and bone-shattering dexterity. A number of patrons close to the stages were also gasping in shock, in awe, mouths agape and whispering with hushed amazement. The elf at their table gave an impressed nod, and Jester was completely entranced.

Suddenly, one of the sisters folded over and plunged downward, drawing horrified exclamations from the audience, until she stopped short barely two feet of the ground. The other twirled down as well and the two of them began to tangle and wrap like battling serpents, hissing and thrashing and violent and beautiful all at the same time. It was…off-putting, and impossible to look away.

Slowly, the lighting began to dull into a pale turquoise. And then it got darker. And darker. And the sisters fell into the underworld.

They began to tell the tale of struggle, crawling across each other limb by limb, using their snake-like forms as a ladder that extended up the ribbons, using every muscle in their bodies to climb upwards. Caleb found himself forgetting to breathe, so pulled into this wordless story of redemption, of hope, of climbing back to the surface from a dark hell to the soft glow above. And as they moved higher and higher, building off one another and stretching upwards, the lighting shifted, grew brighter, and their climbing became less fevered. The two of them, arm into arm, leg into leg, rolled upward and swirled and spun and twirled until finally they reached the apex and wrapped themselves close and pressed their foreheads together and, one again, turned back out to the audience. The extended their hands, and bowed their heads.

And with a flourish, their ribbons were pulled back up, out of sight, the sisters along with them, until the stage was empty again.

The audience erupted into applause. Caleb felt something brush his cheek, and saw Jester patting his face with her napkin.

“You were crying,” she whispered softly. “It’s okay. I got it.”

He blinked, and felt the moisture gathering under his eyes. He glanced back at Jester, who was smiling in an uncharacteristic moment of silence, and thought of something to say.

“…thank you,” he murmured.

She put the napkin down and gave him a pat on the arm. “Don’t worry. And sorry if your face is sticky, I think there was some juice on my cloth.”

And then, before he could reply, the soft green light suddenly vanished, replaced with nothing but empty darkness, and Gustav’s voice echoed around them once more.

_In a flash, beyond the ash, gods all went and gone. The darkness came to grasp, reclaim, and suffocate the dawn._

Suddenly, the audience gasped again as out of the darkness, a burst of flame erupted through the room, beginning with two torch sconces just beside the stage on both sides, spreading out in a circle around the hall, shedding a low, orange light over all of their heads. Caleb couldn’t help but wonder if this was scientific, or arcane, and briefly considered a Detect Magic to find out. But then Gustav spoke again, breaking his train of thought:

_But from that night, a burning light doth keep back the shadows’ bane. The strength to fight will set alight the morning sun again. Esteemed guests, I present to you: Ornna, the Fire Fairy._

From the center of the stage, a flash of silver metal. And then another, and another, and suddenly as the sharp gleam arced through the air a flame trailed after it, framing the face of that beautiful woman with blazing red hair, now surrounded by curls of fire. She spun in a hypnotic twirl, her simple dress fanning out around her and catching the warm light, flickering and giving her the visage of a warrior-goddess battling against the darkness around her. The frenzied fiddle soared again, she spun the fans in her grasp, face stoic and graceful all at the same time. The audience breathed their quiet awe, watching her strike and spin and dive across the stage, banishing the shadows from the hall. She moved with the music, drew wild as it crescendoed, leapt and lunged and _flew_ through the air until the song climaxed and she finished one final, brilliant twirl, and landed on the stage, the lights all around suddenly rocketing into a victorious luminescence.

The crowd went wild. Nott stood in her chair and pumped her fists and even in this refined, upper-class audience, she was not alone.

“This is super different from what they usually do,” Jester whispered to the human on her other side. “Usually it’s just background singing and stuff.”

“What a shame,” said the elf. “I would love to see this sort of show more often. Nice use of pyrotechnics”

“It’s very artistic,” said Nott, sitting back down. “I _like_ it.”

And then the torches went out, and a low drumbeat began to pulse from the stage. Gustav spoke once more:

_Even as the sun would rise anew, bellowing roars will quake the lands of Xhorhas and beyond. Terrible beasts, now freed from their dark masters, scattered into our world._

And then a terrible, guttural roar shook the entire performance hall. In the dead silence that followed, came the quiet crawl of grinding, dragging chains.

A spotlight appeared, cast over the form of Bo the Breaker, dragging something onstage. Desmond came with him, chains in one hand and fiddle in the other, the bow moving itself. And then a shape emerged, massive, hulking, covered completely in slimy, swamp-green scales a stark contrast of the lithe sisters from before. This shape was enormous, corpulent, with large toad-like legs that framed a rotund torso, muscular arms manacled and pulling it in. It fought and wrestled against the chains but slowly, painfully, bitterly pulled into the center of the stage. It roared a second time, mighty and brutal. The front row of the audience pulled back in their seats, whispering urgently, fear beginning to build.

 _The devil-toad crawls hungrily into the land of free folk,_ said Gustav, steady and unwavering. _It ravages the mind and lords over nightmares. But what truth lies behind the eyes of this beast? What would be learned when the guiding heart of innocence pierces the hateful soul, brings beauty for the first time?_

A soft, faint voice from somewhere in the darkness began to drift slowly over their heads.

_I now present to you: the vivid song of Toya._

A light shone down atop a platform against the left side of the stage. And upon the structure, feet swinging and bare, was the shape of the young dwarven girl in the flowing white dress. Her eyes were closed, hands at her side. And her voice, her voice, _her voice_ —

—she sung with a mystifying hum, a sound that pierced the heart with unexpected, uncontrolled, unbridled joy. The crowd audibly gasped as the melody washed over them, entranced them, brought every single person into its music. Caleb felt something brush his cheek again, and when he looked down he saw Jester blow her nose into the napkin, staring at the stage with wide, tear-brimmed eyes.

And before them all, the devil-toad froze. It stopped struggling, seemingly caught by this song. Its face dropped into a soft smile and it slowly walked beneath Toya’s wooden platform. It looked up, and sat down. Bosun and Desmond both dropped their chains and walked away, leaving the creature in its awed rapture. From up above, Toya’s voice began to grow, almost summoning a chorus from the ether that once again spoke of magic that could not be. Her smile was infectious, and though tears spilled down Caleb’s face, he could not break his gaze.

Until, abruptly, a man seated at one of the tables shot to his feet. His arms were outstretched and behind his fine-tailored suit was a body wracked with age. His legs shook, and the low light caught the wetness of his cheeks.

“What’s wrong with him?” Nott whispered as the audience's attention began to shift. “What’s he doing?”

“I dunno,” Jester frowned. “I think…hey, wait, he doesn’t look so good—”

And then he screamed. Hoarse, and ragged, and filled with pain.

The music instantly stopped. Other patrons began to stand up, began to move closer, to check on him, watched him collapse to the ground and clutch his chest and with another wet gurgle screamed again, vocal chords bursting and now the skin on his arms began to tear, the bones split from his flesh, the people immediately around him began screaming themselves and backing away and his body writhed and crackled and dust shook from his swelling form and the entire audience started panicking, scrambling, running for the exits and shouting and—

Chaos erupted all around them.

Instinctively, Caleb’s hands caught fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand, roll initiative! Come on guys, of course I'd throw in some action! I've missed writing magic fight scenes, and I'm wicked excited for chapter 6 now ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you have some fun prompts or just want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all!!


	6. The Still-Hanging Spotlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER SIX, FEATURING: the performance end, lizard times, a run in with the law, and warehouse battles

Yasha leaned against a stone column outside the front entrance, facing east and idly watching boats bob up and down along the Eistus River. The arrival of winter meant fishing season was over now, but the few brightly-colored vessels still on the nighttime waters left her with a sense of serene, floating ease.

And then suddenly, the doors burst open behind her. A wild stream of people poured out, all well-dressed but looking very harried, roughly shoving past each other and heading straight for the sidewalks. Strangely enough, there were also two tiny gnomes flanking the horde, shouting over the noise and doing their best to direct the flow as smoothly as possible.

Thanks to her formidable stature, Yasha was able to wade through this onslaught with relative ease. She caught fragments of frantic conversation as she moved— _what on earth was that; I can’t believe it; horrifying, so horrifying; my lawyer will head of this; poor old Brinjay_ —and while none of it actually made any sense, all of it was extremely worrying.

“What happened?” she asked when she reached the entrance. “What’s going on?”

The gnome to her left, a tiny brown-haired man, spoke first.

“A guy in the audience went insane,” he explained. “Started writhing and screaming and attacking, it looked like he changed into some kind of monster! Is that something that happens, usually?”

“Knock it off, dear,” sighed the other gnome. “That’s not helpful. Miss, you should stay put,” she added, looking up at the massive woman next to her. “It’s not safe in there anymore.”

Yasha glanced through the doors, watched panicked guests tumble down the stairs.

She met the gnome’s concerned gaze and shook her head. “I cannot do that,” she said. “My friends are still in there. I need to go.”

And then she pushed a handful of guests aside, and headed in.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb’s chair flew back as he leapt to his feet, the flames in his hands shedding a low orange glow over the tablecloth, over Jester’s frantic expression, over Nott’s wide and fearful eyes. With only the stage spotlight and the moon leaking in through cracks in the curtains to illuminate the area, he could barely make out anything worthwhile—just snatches of a lumbering silhouette behind the mad shifting of fleeing audience members. From what he could tell, whatever the man had become was _massive._ It stretched taller than any human could, was wide as a bear and made furious swipes with rake-like claws at anything and everything that moved.

Then it roared a low, wet, wretched roar.

“What _is_ that thing?” Jester cried, whipping around to face him. “What the _fuck_?!”

“I-I don’t know!” he shouted back. “I’ve never seen anything like it before! We need to get out of here, it is too dangerous!”

“But what about the others?” she demanded. “What about Molly and the performers and everybody downstairs?”

Nott squinted, and pointed at the stage. “There are still people there too!” she said. “I think I see Desmond, the lizard-man, and…and Toya.”

Sure enough, perched twenty feet in the air on her small wooden platform, the little dwarf girl was now backing up, raising her hands and trembling. She spoke too quietly for anybody to hear, but her eyes were filled with terror and her shoulders quivered. And then suddenly, she took a step too wide, placed her foot too far, felt the wind rush past and saw the ground fly up to meet her—

“Kylre!” Desmond screamed, “ _catch her_!”

A massive shape rose through the darkness. It glinted for just a moment in the moonlight, reached out its arms, and landed back onto the stage with a resounding _thud._

“Thank the gods,” Desmond breathed as Kylre turned to him, cradling Toya in his grasp. “Quick, get her out of here, get yourselves somewhere safe. This isn’t going to end well, friend.”

The lizard-man immediately took off behind the curtains. Back down on the carpeted floor, Jester, Caleb, and Nott’s attention returned to the strange, rampaging creature. The area around it had cleared out as patrons ran away, and it had switched to crushing tables under its girth, throwing vases against the walls. It shattered a window with a chair and punched an ashen fist against the ground and then—only then—did it notice their trio: the only ones not moving to escape.

It gave that cry again, a mix of pitiful and terrifying. It advanced.

“Oh, shit,” said Nott, “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, are we going to have to _fight_?”

Caleb glanced around wildly, saw the outline of a stampeding horde blocking the exits and a sea of debris blocking the stage. He looked down at his palms, still crackling and ablaze.

“Er,” he began, “I, fuck, I don’t—”

Jester cut him off. “Let’s _goooo_!” she yelled brightly. clapping her hands together. Immediately, snapping into reality before all of their eyes, came a giant, shimmering purple lollipop. It immediately swung into the creature’s head, eliciting a roar of anger. The monster clutched its skull in agony, then looked up and locked onto Jester.

“Whoops,” she said. Her arms were outstretched and glowing faintly. “I think maybe I just made it mad.”

Caleb prevented himself from anxiously combing his fingers through his hair and setting it on fire. He turned to Nott and asked, urgently, “Did you bring your spell components?”

She quickly nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Hurry, send a message downstairs to alert Fjord and Beau what is happening. We need them to evacuate people and send backup. We will not be able to fight this thing alone.”

“Alright, Caleb!” She shoved a fist into her coat, rummaged around, and yanked out a copper wire. And as she began murmuring the commands for a Message Spell, Caleb took a deep breath, pulled deep into himself to draw upon all the knowledge he still possessed. Suddenly, the air around them turned blistering and dry and a sphere of flame coalesced around his hands, grew scorching, and he sent three blasts of burning fire towards the grotesque creature as it roared and drew ever closer.

\------------------------------------

Despite being on the clock, Fjord eventually gave up on sobriety and joined Beau in having a small drink.

“It’s just been a shitty few days,” she muttered gloomily. “Something happened that really pissed me off.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” he asked. “I promise I won’t judge.”

She sighed. “It’s stupid. You’re gonna judge me anyways, but basically, yesterday in the mail I got—”

_FJORD TOUGH—STOP—THIS IS NOTT—STOP—I HAVE AN URGENT MESSAGE—STOP—THINGS ARE FUCKED—STOP_

Beau leaned over the counter and watched Fjord get up from the ground. He looked around in bewilderment and kicked a few shards of broken glass aside. A couple other curious bar patrons also glanced over, though they seemed too intoxicated to really care.

“Whoa there,” said Beau. “You good? You look like your bean just got freaked. Did you fall on any glass?”

He rubbed his temples. “Nah,” he muttered, “nah, I think I’m okay. Did you, uh, did you just… _hear_ something?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh…no? Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

He sighed and gestured at the bottle on the table. “Maybe we should’ve picked something weaker to start with,” he shrugged. “Or maybe I’m more of a lightweight than I thought, because—”

_FJORD TOUGH—STOP—THIS IS NOTT AGAIN—STOP—SOMETHING ATTACKED US—STOP—DURING THE SHOW—STOP—YOU NEED TO EVACUATE FLETCH—STOP—AND THEN COME UP AND HELP US—STOP—ALSO THIS IS PROBABLY NEW FOR YOU—STOP—IT’S A MAGIC SPELL—STOP—AND YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE—STOP_

This time Beau punched him in the arm. “Seriously dude,” she said, “open your eyes, are you _sure_ you’re g—”

“Something’s happened,” he frowned. “I…I’m not sure what exactly, but I just got a message from Nott, I think? She says there’s been an attack in the Moondrop. She says she wants us to get everybody out, down here.”

Beau’s eyes went wide. “ _What_? Are you _serious_? Is…is _she_ serious? How do you know it’s not a prank, or something?”

“I don’t,” he agreed, “but she sounded pretty urgent. And you know how thick the soundproofing is, something really _could’ve_ happened and we wouldn’t’ve noticed. Maybe…maybe it’s better to be safe than sorry?”

She shook her head, and then shrugged. “Sure, whatever, man. What do we do?”

He glanced around. “I’m gonna to ask the customers to clear out,” he said. “I’ll need your help guiding them safely and making sure they don’t panic. Sound good?”

“Gotcha.”

“Okay,” Fjord said. “In that case—”

_FJORD TOUGH—STOP—I NOTE THAT YOU DID NOT REPLY—STOP—ARE YOU OKAY—STOP—DO YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE—STOP—BECAUSE WE CAN’T REALLY GIVE YOU THAT NOW THINGS ARE SUPER BAD HERE—STOP—LIKE REALLY REALLY BAD—STOP—PLEASE HURRY—STOP—I’M NOT KIDDING—STOP—AND YOU CAN REPLY TO THIS—_

“Yes, godsdammit, Nott!” he shouted at the ceiling. “I heard you, _loud_ and clear! We’ll be up as soon. Is that alright?”

There were a few seconds of silence.

_YEAH OKAY SURE_

Fjord sighed and rubbed his forehead. Then he slid Beau’s drink aside and climbed up onto the counter.

“Ladies and gentlemen and other welcomed guests,” he called as calmly as possible, “excuse me, but I have an important announcement to make.”

When the crowd did not quiet down, Beau rolled her eyes, grabbed two bottles of liquor off the shelves, and smashed them as aggressively as she could against the floor. Everybody’s heads instantly turned towards her.

“Listen up!” She yelled. “Your bartender has something fuckin’ important to say! And if you all wanna live, then you’d better pay attention.”

\--------------------------------------

Gustav lowered his tablet, which had suddenly gone dark, and tapped on his headset. “Hello?”

He glanced over at Ornna, Molly, and the Knot Sisters, standing around him behind the large curtains, securely offstage. They all shrugged.

“Desmond?” he tried. “Hello, Des? Your connection stopped, what was that scream? Is everything—”

Then there came a mighty roar, and muffled shouting. That would have been fine, almost _expected_ given the scene, but then…then…

Kylre exploded through the curtains, Toya in his arms, followed closely behind Bosun and Desmond and a trail of chains clattering in their wake. He didn’t even stop—just barreled past the rest of the group and vanished down the hall.

There was a brief pause, punctuated by another scream from beyond the stage.

“What the _fuck_ ,” said Ornna. “What—”

“No time!” Desmond yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Something’s attacking us! There was…there was…”

“Someone in the audience just turned into a fuckin’ monster of some kind,” Bosun said. His eyes were wide and his breath short. “We’ve gotta get out of here now, go hide somewhere or get to safety. Everyone’s running, Gustav, and we should do the same.”

Gustav’s eyes darted around. Molly could see a war tearing him apart—protect the Moondrop, or protect his troupe.

After a few seconds of turmoil he turned to them and nodded decisively. “Alright then,” he said quickly. “Okay. Everybody, to the back exit. Come on, come on, time to go.”

\--------------------------------------

“I don’t see why you had to do that,” Fjord said as they pushed the last of the patrons onto the sidewalk and handed over control to Yan, the other bouncer. “Those were expensive bottles.”

“Cry me a river,” Beau huffed. “Besides, they were technically 25% off tonight.”

Fjord rolled his eyes and began heading up the outdoor stairs leading to the Moondrop. “So when you pay it back, you can pay it back cheaper.”

“Sure.” Beau rolled her eyes behind him. “Because I’ll _definitely_ be paying for those.”

He nodded, ignoring her sarcasm. “Let’s see what it was that Nott was going on about now,” he said, reaching for his keys.

“I really hope that was worth it,” Beau muttered. “Otherwise we just ruined an entire bar’s evening, and those two bottles of liquor.”

Fjord tugged on the handle. “I can’t imagine it’s _that_ —”

Typically, warm lighting and the cheerful hum of behind-the-scenes life would greet them past the open door. But now, instead, the lights were completely off. The air was tomb-silent and cold, save for a low and distant commotion somewhere beyond the main stage. And then came that long-off scream, and that hushed roar.

“Well fuck,” said Beau. “I guess...I guess _that’s_ what she was talkin’ about, huh?”

“What the hell was that?” Fjord whispered. “Some kinda monster? Is _that_ what we’re supposed to _fight_?”

“You’ve got magic, don’t you?” she returned. “You’re probably more equipped than I am for this kinda thing.”

He immediately shook his head. “No way. I barely know what I’m doing magic-wise. At least you can punch shit real hard. Didn’t you used to go to school with monks, or somethin’?”

Beau shrugged. “Yeah, _maybe_ ,” she said, “but I don’t really think that’s gonna help. This is fucked.”

They both stared down the hallway for a few moments. Then they turned back to one another.

“Runnin’ seems pretty good right now,” he admitted. “I’m not sure we could even help, in this situation.”

Beau nodded. “I like that plan. Maybe we can—”

Then there was another sound. Shrill, muffled by distance and barely audible, but what Fjord and Beau managed to catch was:

“ _EAT SHIT, YOU STUPID ZOMBIE THING_!”

Their eyes immediately widened.

“Was that—”

“No way, is—”

“Aw fuck,” they both said at exactly the same time.

Fjord ran a hand through his hair, and Beau shook her head.

“So…we’re going in, then,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” Fjord said. “Yeah. Let’s…let’s…fuck it, man. Just...just fuck it.”

\--------------------------------------

Molly’s head whipped around towards the stage. From where they stood he could only make out a tiny sliver of the performance hall beyond, shrouded in darkness, with occasional flickers of movement. Unfortunately, there was nothing to indicate whether or not—

“But it sounded _exactly_ like Jester,” he said with a frown. “Fuck, I have to—”

Gustav grabbed his wrist and shook his head. The other members of their troupe were already fleeing down the hall.

“We need to get out of here,” he said urgently.

“Are you kidding me?” Molly hissed back. “There’s something loose in our home and I think, gods, I think my friends are fighting it now!”

“But what could you possibly do?” Gustav pressed. “Please, Mollymauk, please, come with the rest of us. Don’t worry about the bar, worry about yourself.”

Molly looked over his shoulder, heard a distant _whoosh_ of air, a heavy impact, and more panicked screams. He glanced down at his sides, where two prop scimitars were strapped against his hips. He met Gustav’s worried gaze.

“I’m going out there,” he said firmly. “I can’t just sit back and—”

And then Beau and Fjord rounded the corner, out of breath and looking determined. They came to a halt just in front of Molly and Gustav. For a second, both pairs just stared at each other.

Beau spoke first. “We’re, uh, here,” she said. “To help.”

“Nott says something is out there attacking audience members,” Fjord explained. “And right now she and Jes and Caleb are tryin’ to fight it. We’re, well, I guess we’re also—”

Molly immediately held up a hand, and they paused. “You’re coming to fight too?” he asked.

Beau and Fjord exchanged glances.

“Uh…” Fjord said, “I guess?”

Molly nodded. He unsheathed one of his swords, which wobbled slightly as it moved through the air. But his grip was resolute. He took a deep breath and looked at Gustav once more.

“I’m going.” His voice was soft. “Please,” he added.

Gustav’s shoulders relaxed just slightly as he gave in. “Okay,” he said. “Alright. But…but be safe, son.”

Molly gave him a small smile. Then he raised an eyebrow at Beau and Fjord. “Well then?” he asked. “Are we going, or what?”

\--------------------------------------

In the corner of his vision, under the glow of the still-hanging spotlight, Caleb saw three shapes emerge from backstage. One was lithe, one slightly stockier, and one with large, curling horns.

“Oh good!” he shouted, calling more fire out from hands. “The cavalry is here now!”

“Took you long enough!” Nott screamed. She had produced a crossbow from…from _somewhere_ , and was crouched behind an overturned table for cover. Her eyes, though still light blue and disguised, were manic with anxiousness and adrenaline. “Fjord, you _suck_ at replying!”

“Talk later!” Jester yelled, and punched her fist, and her spectral lollipop swept down to bludgeon the creature. “Fight now!”

Beau immediately leapt off the stage, grabbed a fallen chair, screamed as she barreled towards her target. Fjord stayed in place, either immobile from fear or taking a moment to assess the situation. Apparently it was the latter, because after a few seconds he thrust his hands out and murmured a few strange words and a cold green blast of energy flung outwards, rocketed through the air and collided with the monster’s skull. Caleb was so distracted by this peculiar arcane display— _what_ was _that, it didn’t look like a normal spell_ —that he almost didn’t notice the other flash of light just under the stage.

Mollymauk had jumped off as well, was now advancing with two scimitars in his hands. One was surrounded by a bright, radiant glow that illuminated the second blade, which was coated in a thin layer of hard, crackling ice.

 _Well okay then,_ Caleb thought. Perhaps he was not the only one with a strange and magical past.

Part of him almost wanted to laugh at how familiar this all felt, taking something down with a group at his side, reveling in the heat that left his fingers and admiring the skills of his friends. But then the creature roared again, and his attention snapped back to the battle.

Now, under the fury of the group’s assault, it was beginning to look rough. Blasts of green light exploded against its ashy hide, pockmarked with crossbow bolts and lollipop-dents and slashes from Molly’s swords, singed and sporting chair splinters like porcupine quills, that were scattered along its unnatural, protruding skeleton. Its malformed head whipped around violently, overwhelmed by the relentless onslaught and unable to focus on one target. Its body jerked, spasmed, and with no other options something inside it, deep and buried and survival-driven, took control.

Its instincts said: _run away._

It saw the grand door leading outside, where the last of the guests had just vanished out of sight.

It saw a direct path, littered with broken furniture and bent silverware.

And then it saw Beau step in the way, advancing with half a table swinging in her grasp.

Another flash of fire exploded across its back, it felt the wind of a downward scimitar-strike and it roared again, made up its mind, started to flee. It barreled towards Beauregard and then her eyes immediately went wide with panic and terror, as the realization sunk in that she wouldn’t be able to escape before it hit, that she wouldn’t have time to dodge, that all she could do was brace herself and tuck in her elbows and hope that its jagged spikes wouldn’t tear her to bits—

—and just as she was about to be bulldozed over, another massive shape burst past her in a flurry of feathers, screaming a deep, enraged cry. It tackled the monster at gut-height, and Molly just barely danced out of the way as Yasha and the creature went soaring ten feet back, her shoulder buried in its stomach and her eyes glowing in the darkness.

They collided with the floor. Yasha on top, the monster beneath her dragging a disgusting trail of ash and slime and shards of bone against the wood.

They both came to a stop. For a moment or two, the creature just lay there and gurgled faintly.

And then it went still. And silent.

Yasha stood up and tried to wipe the ooze off her shawl. It sort of worked.

“Is that what everybody was running from?” she asked calmly, and prodded the grotesque, grey slough on the ground with her boot. “Are we done, then?”

They all stared at her. Beau had stars in her eyes. Fjord sighed, and started making his way down from the stage.

Then the house lights came to life. Four Crownsguard in full riot gear burst into the performance hall, trailed by a dwarf woman in jeans and a leather jacket.

They all looked at the dead monster. They looked at the motley crew of guests and employees standing around it. Everybody just sort of stood there for a few long, quiet seconds.

“Well then,” the woman said eventually, gesturing to the creature lying at Yasha’s feet. “I see you all have taken care of the immediate threat. I’ll remember that, in case we end up arresting you.”

And then, before anybody could say another word, she turned around and stuck her head back out the doorway. “Grenn!” She shouted. “Go tell the posh folk to go home! And get me those performers from out back. I think it’s time we all had a little chat.”

And then, she faced their group again and crossed her arms. As she shifted, her jacket nudged to the side and revealed a silver chain hanging around her neck, ending in a gold badge shaped like a shield. It shone in the light, before vanishing again back under her clothing.

“I’m Detective-Sergeant Norda,” she said. “Find me some chairs that aren’t broken, will you? This could take a while, and I’d like to sit down.”

\--------------------------------------

“No way,” said Molly, shooting to his feet. “You can’t do that.”

“Mollymauk,” Gustav said firmly, “don’t argue this.”

“But he’s _innocent_!” Molly said. “I _know_ he is, he—”

“And where’s your proof?” Norda demanded. “ _How_ do you know?”

They were all gathered at the far left of the hall now, clustered around one of the only undamaged tables remaining. Norda leaned forwards on her elbows, glaring at the group amassed before her. Gustav and most of the troupe were seated, Molly angrily pounding a fist against the tablecloth, Yasha standing in the back with her arms crossed next to Bosun and the non-Moondrop stragglers. Nott had ducked behind Caleb and emerged a moment later with a fresh Disguise Self, and Jester was scribbling away in a notebook she had produced from her purse. Six more Crownsguard had also entered the building, four splitting off to investigate and dispose of the creature, the other two joining the rest in unsubtly watching over the proceedings.

It was unnerving, to be sure.

Norda shook her head at Molly. “I appreciate your loyalty to your employer,” she said coolly, “but I would more appreciate it if you would _calm down_. You’re lucky I’m letting you all off.”

“You saw the security footage,” Beau said. “You have to.”

“I don’t _have_ to do shit, kid,” Norda said immediately. “Especially not what _you_ tell me to do. My decision is final, based on what I’ve seen and what I’ve been told. I’m taking Mr. Fletching here, noting his cooperation in the matter, and I’ll release him once we get _indisputable evidence_ of his innocence. And all of you are on thin fucking ice, too. Right now you’re in the peaceful waters of my good graces. Ensure that you stay that way. You performers, depending on how this goes, we may need to question you. So don’t even _think_ about leaving this city tonight.”

She leaned back and sighed. “Go get your things and go home, alright? Hurry up, so you don’t look too suspicious. If we see _anything_ out of place, that turns up in your possession, I’ll drag you to jail myself. We’ll update you further as things develop.”

She gave a short nod and pushed her chair back. “Good evening,” she said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

She stood up, waved a hand at her officers, and turned around. They all scrambled to follow her, leading Gustav along with them as they did.

And then a minute later, they were all gone.

In the ensuing quiet, Molly put his forehead against the tabletop. Nobody spoke for a bit.

Then Desmond sighed and put a hand on the tiefling’s back. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Gustav’s innocent, they’ll see that and then let him go.”

Bosun scoffed. “Will they?” he asked. “Are you sure? A man _died_ tonight, they’re going to want _someone_ to blame.”

“What if...what if Gustav _is_ guilty?” Ornna asked, and quickly raised her hands when a number of outraged faces swiveled towards her. “I’m just saying,” she sighed. “We all love him, yeah, but...it’s possible. It’s not like he tells us everything, and sometimes he can be a little shady.”

“We’re _all_ shady,” Molly grumbled through the tablecloth. “That’s what makes us so delightful.”

“It is also why the law does not like us,” Yasha reminded him gently.

“Gustav had to work damn hard to get the money and respect he needed to run this place,” Yuli agreed. “We all did.”

“And now it’s gone,” Desmond nodded. “Or, at least, it seems like it. But we can’t let this break us apart, right? We all need each other more than ever, now. We need to stick together.”

Beau cleared her throat. “Speaking of sticking together,” she said, “uh...wasn’t there another one of you in the troupe? Giant and scaly, carried around a dwarf kid, answers to the name of ‘Kylre’ and ran off just after the fight started?”

There was a moment’s pause.

“He was trying to keep Toya safe,” said Ornna slowly. “I think he went to hide backstage, right?”

“He wasn’t outside with the rest of us,” Mona said, “so he must still be there.”

Fjord shrugged. “Beau and I ran through a few rooms on the way to the fight,” he said, “but I didn’t see ‘im. Though he could’ve hunkered down somewhere out of sight,” he added.

“We could go look for him and Toya and tell them the coast is clear, if you’d like?” Jester volunteered. “So you all can get your things.”

“That would be...very kind of you,” Bosun said. “If you all aren’t opposed…?”

Nott opened her mouth and Jester immediately kicked her in the leg. “Not a problem at all! It’s the least we can do.”

Molly stood up and sighed. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “You’ll probably need someone to make sure you don’t get lost, and to talk to them once we find them.”

“I will come also,” said Yasha. “I do not have any things here to retrieve.”

“C’mon then, you guys,” Molly said, waving the group on forwards. “The sooner we find them, the better, probably.”

\--------------------------------------

“Okay,” said Fjord as he and Jester returned to the green room. “I swear, we searched our area a thousand times up and down, and nothing. Not even a smidge of slime or a strand of blonde hair.”

Molly rubbed his face and shook his head. He was pacing across the carpet now, the rest of the group sitting on the couch and watching him with expressions ranging from concern (Yasha, Jester, Fjord, Caleb) to amusement (Nott and Beau).

“I don’t get it,” he said. “It’s not like they should be _hard_ to spot. For the gods’ sake, Kylre is probably eight feet tall.”

“Probably more,” said Jester. “He’s super big.”

“Right, sure,” Molly conceded. “But my point is, I don’t think we would have overlooked him if he was still in here. So the question is—”

“Where did he go?!” Nott jumped up. “That’s what you were going to say, eh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, yes.”

“ _Hell_ yes!” Nott punched a fist into the air. “This means that we’ve got a mystery on our hands! And you know what that means!”

Jester immediately shoved Fjord to the side and ran over to stand next to Nott. “It means that Brave and Lavore are on the case! There’s no puzzle we can’t uncover, no crime we can’t decipher, no code we can’t solve!”

Beau frowned. “Shouldn’t it be ‘solve’ for the puzzle, ‘decipher’ for the code, and ‘uncover’ for the crime?”

Nott shrugged. “We’re open to constructive criticism,” she said, “but not right now. Right now, we’re on the case! Mollymauk, when was the last time you _saw_ this Kylre of yours?”

Molly rolled his eyes. “Onstage, Nott. Where else?”

She nodded slowly. “I see…I see…well then, what was he doing when you saw him?”

Molly shook his head. “He was running away. Gods, is this really going to help?”

Jester immediately nodded. “Definitely,” she said. “It’s a practiced art, detective-ing.”

“I am a very big fan of you both,” Caleb said carefully, “but are you sure that this is the best way to go about searching for them? I feel like you are being influenced by the _Labenda Mysteries_ series we watched last week.  Not to cast aspersions.”

“I don’t know that spell,” Nott said, “so I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

As Beau had a small fit in the background and Yasha clapped her on the back, the others returned to the situation at hand.

“I guess we could look around in the alleys and stuff,” Molly suggested with a shrug.

“Do they live around here?” Jester asked. “They could have just gone home.”

Yasha shook her head. “They both reside in the Moondrop,” she said. “In an old dressing room. It is...difficult for folks like them to find apartments and such in a city like this.”

Nott gave a glum nod of understanding.

Caleb tapped his chin slowly. “Perhaps this is a silly idea,” he said, “but I _could_ send Frumpkin out to skitter around the rooftops, see if he can see anything outside from above. Maybe they did leave, and just went to hide somewhere.”

Fjord nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” he said. “In the meantime, we can make our way out too and take a look around. I don’t want to be in here for too much longer, to avoid drawin’ suspicion from the authorities.”

“You mean the sheriff?” Nott asked immediately.

Fjord gave her a puzzled frown. “No? I’m pretty sure she said she was a Detective-Sergeant.”

Beau coughed a few times. “Can we just go?” she asked. “Before I literally have an aneurysm.”

“I will need someone to hold my hand,” Caleb said. “And guide me. When I look into Frumpkin’s eyes, I cannot see or hear.”

Jester instantly volunteered. “Ooh, ooh, I can do it!” she cried. “I love holding people’s hands.”

Molly gave her a small smile. “Great,” he said. “Now we have the affectionate leading the deaf and blind.”

\--------------------------------------

“This is kind of freaky,” Fjord said. “Is it always like this?”

“Probably?” Nott guessed. “He doesn’t really do it that much, but it has been so far.”

“It looks like we can almost see what Frumpkin is seeing also,” Yasha noted. “Flashing in his eyes.”

They were all outside now, standing just under the alley stairs that led up to the Moondrop. At this point, the city had completely melted into night, dark clouds overhead and the flicker of streetlamps all around them. Cars still inched along the roads out front but back here, behind the building, it was relatively quiet. The far-off sound of a flowing river leaked past the brick and concrete around them. Light snowfall was beginning to drift down, and they all pulled their jackets in tighter except for Caleb, who was distracted, and Jester, who didn’t seem to mind.

“Do you see anything yet?” she asked the wizard. “Have you found them?”

There was no response.

“He can’t _hear_ you,” Beau said with a tone that suggested this was her fourth reminder in the last ten minutes.

“Let’s just wait, dear,” Molly said gently. “I’m sure the moment he _does_ get something, he’ll let us know.”

“It’s really cold out here,” Nott grumbled.

“You should put on a coat then,” Jester said. “So that you don’t get sick.”

“I’m _wearing_ a coat,” Nott sighed. “It’s just under my gnome disguise.”

“You know,” Fjord nodded, “I was gonna ask about that.”

“I’m magic. Not as magic as Caleb, but still magic.”

“Got any spells for makin’ fire, then?” he asked conversationally. “Somethin’ to keep you warm?”

“No. I wish I did, though, ‘cause I hate this. It _never_ got so cold where I used to live.”

“Oh? Where was that?”

“Felderwin. South.”

Fjord smiled. “Hey, me too! Southwest, but still south.”

“Really?” Nott asked. “Were there goblins where you were? ‘Cause if yes, then—”

Caleb suddenly thrust a hand forward and grabbed blindly at the first thing in front of him, which was Yasha’s shawl, and tugged urgently. “I see something,” he said. “Something very large. A...a shadow, of some kind. It just ducked into the building, and the door is very loud behind it.”

“What kind of building?” Jester asked. “What kind of shadow?”

“He still _can’t hear_ you,” Beau moaned.

“It is gone now,” Caleb sighed. He was still staring off into the distance. “But it was quite large. Large enough to be Kylre, I think. And Frumpkin is only a block or two away, so it is not impossible that our missing friends took off a short distance, just to be safe.”

Then he blinked, and shook his head, and the light faded from his eyes. They were back to their usual, non-glowing blue. He blushed faintly and released Yasha’s shawl.

“Sorry,” he said. “I got nervous.”

She shook her head. “It is fine. Now say again, where was this?”

“And _what kind of building_?” Jester demanded again. “Like a restaurant, or an apartment building, or a shoe store, or a bookstore, or a jewelry store, or a candy store, or a—”

“I am not entirely sure,” Caleb sighed before they could lose their minds any further. “It was very large, though, and wide, and right along the water. In the marina.”

Fjord rubbed his chin. “Is it a shipping warehouse?” he asked. “I think that’d be the most likely.”

Caleb shrugged. “Perhaps?”

“Can you lead us there?” Beau asked. “Do you remember where it is?”

“Caleb has a perfect memory!” Nott said immediately. “He remembers where _everything_ is.”

“Really?” Molly asked. “Fascinating.”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “That description is not entirely true,” he said, “but it is sufficient in this specific case. Come on, everybody. I can take us there.”

They took off at a decent walking pace, mildly bantering the whole way as Caleb led them down two blocks and through a few alleys, following the path of a tiny cat fifty feet in the air as best as they could on foot. Eventually, after untangling Molly’s scarlet costume coat from the broken corner of a dumpster and waiting for Beau to scrape the gum on her shoe off against a brick wall, they arrived at the opening to the streets. And the sidewalks, and the iron gates leading to the docks. They crossed, avoided a lone driver, and walked up to the gate.

It was chained shut, and locked for the night.

“How do we get in?” Jester asked. “You can’t turn us all into cats or magic the fence open, can you?”

That last part was directed at Caleb, who shook his head. “I cannot do the cats thing,” he said. “And I already used up quite a bit of magic during our fight with the strange grey creature.”

“That’s a weird thing to call it,” Beau said.

“ _Was_? Why?”

She shrugged. “Well, I mean, ‘grey’ wasn’t really a defining feature, you know? I was more worried about the jagged bony spikes and horrible glowing eyes and the fact that it had _no skin_.”

“Tomayto, tomahto.”

“No, I really don’t think that—”

There was a faint _click_. They both looked down.

Nott was kneeling on the ground, holding the large rusted lock in one of her hands. In the other, some sort of thin metal tool. There was small piece of black canvas next to her leg on the sidewalk, with more tools on it.

Caleb immediately smiled. “ _Excellent_ job, _spatz_ ,” he said, and leaned down to ruffle her hair.

“Aw, it was nothing,” she grinned back. “Shall we go?”

Beau threw her hands up into the air in a _why-the-hell-not_ gesture. Fjord looked at Molly, who shrugged.

Fjord turned back to Nott. “What the hell?” he asked. “How did...what was...where were you _keeping_ those?”

“She also has a crossbow,” Jester said helpfully.

“ _Where_?” Molly asked.

Nott snorted. “This is an illusion, remember? I’m wearing a whole belt of stuff over my real dress. And a hoodie. It’s cold out.”

“So you said, earlier.”

“Come on now,” Caleb sighed, pushing the fence open. “So that after this, we can go home and get somewhere warm.”

They all slipped through, and entered the Eistus Marina.

It was essentially a long series of docks and wharfs, connected by walkways over the water and framed with warehouses and smaller shacks. Boats bobbed up and down along the river, and the moon was low overhead through the clouds. The snow had caught up to them now, blanketing the wooden planks under their feet in a faint white dusting.

“That way,” Caleb said, pointing to their right. “That is where Frumpkin saw the shape.”

They followed his path down the main dock, and stopped in front of massive building with a flat roof, tiny windows high up, and a rusted sign with a picture of a flying bird out front. Its doors were styled like a garage’s, one massive sheet of metal lifted up from the bottom.

It was slightly dented, and hung about an inch off the ground.

“This is it,” Caleb said. “He went in through there.”

Fjord nodded slowly. “It _is_ a shipping warehouse,” he said. “That bird, it’s the wandering albatross. It’s the symbol of the Menagerie Merchant Company.

“How do you know that?” Nott asked.

He shrugged. “I used to work for ‘em. C’mon, Yasha, wanna give me a hand getting through?”

She nodded, and followed him to the front.

“Alright,” he said, crouching down. “This could be heavy. It always took a few of us to do, so if we can’t get it to work on the first try, then—”

Yasha leaned over, grabbed the handle with both hands, and with a mighty heave, _yanked._ The door rattled at first, then shook, then screamed a song of grinding rust and metal until it rested just above her head.

She turned and looked at the rest. The stars were back in Beau’s eyes. Jester clapped.

Fjord stood up, and dusted his legs off. “Well alright then,” he said with only mild embarrassment. “In that case...uh...after y—”

Something shot out of the darkness, something thick and pink and slimy and long, and immediately wrapped itself around Fjord’s waist.

There was a split second where all of them just stared at it, Fjord looking down and saying, “What the f—”

And then he was yanked under the door, shouting all the while and completely, appropriately, bewildered and afraid.

Molly recovered first, immediately shooting below Yasha’s arm and screaming, “Kylre! Kylre, it’s us, it’s us! Stop it, let him go!”

The rest watched him vanish.

They all stared at one another and waited for their brains to process what had just happened.

Then they scrambled to follow him inside, all ducking under one by one.

The warehouse was enormous, filled with crates and boxes and stacks and stacks of random merchandise all waiting to be shipped away or picked up in the morning. It was quite hard to see inside, given the lack of any electrical lighting and only the moon filtering in through tiny windows high above. Fortunately, most of the group wasn’t too inhibited by this—Caleb and Beau were the only ones struggling to see.

That, of course, and the fact that Fjord was still screaming and pounding against the slick, scaly hide of Kylre as he stood atop a mountain of metal containers. He had the thrashing half-orc in one hand, tongue now freed, and was staring down with gleaming red eyes to where they all stood at the entrance of the storage complex, door whining down behind them.

“Get _out_!” he bellowed. “Take your friend and go.” He thrust Fjord forwards in his large webbed hand like a child’s toy. The half-orc glared, and stopped yelling.

“Of course,” Molly said slowly, “of course we will. But you’re coming too, right?”

Kylre’s eyes glittered. “No,” he said. His voice was a low tremor. “I will leave.”

Yasha’s brow furrowed as she glanced around them. “Where...where is Toya?” she asked.

“Coming with me,” Kylre said. “We are leaving together.”

“Now, hang on a moment,” Molly said.. His voice was still cautious, but a sharp edge was beginning to creep in. “Why the sudden decision to run off? And why take Toya with you?”

The lizard-man shifted slightly. The crate underneath him quivered. “Danger,” he said. “We are in danger.”

“Now, that just ain’t true,” Fjord said. “Not you, anyways.”

“There is no more danger,” Caleb called. “We destroyed the monster.”

Kylre shifted again. This time his beady eyes narrowed. “Destroyed? You destroyed?”

“Yes,” Caleb said. “So there is no need to worry.”

Now Kylre was backing up, his head darting around and gaze lingering on the windows, on the large door behind the group. “There is need,” he rumbled. “There is great need. I will go now, take your friend, I will go now, and run away, take Toya—”

“Excuse me,” Fjord said, “excuse me, I’m still in your hands—”

“You can’t just _take_ her,” Beau yelled. “She belongs with us.”

“I will take her,” Kylre repeated. His tone was growing more and more agitated, his motions more frantic. “I will take her, and I will go, and you all will leave us—”

“I sure would like to!” Fjord said very loudly. His feet were dragging against the top of the crate.

“Kylre, Kylre, please,” Molly said gently with a worried look at Fjord. “Please, let’s just talk about this calmly. Can we do that? We are _friends_ , after all, yes?”

There was a pause. Caleb felt his heart retreat into his stomach as he heard the achingly familiar call of a Friends spell.

And then his stomach fell as he saw Kylre begin to nod, begin to settle, then suddenly jerk his head forwards and shake his whole body as he realized what had happened, as he swiveled his gaze to lock onto Molly and open his massive maw and roar, “ _NO. WE ARE NOT._ ”

Molly’s eyes went wide with confusion. And then they went wider, because Kylre drew back the fist that was clenching Fjord and with a terrible thrust, launched the half-orc across the room and directly into the opposite wall, where he impacted with a sickening _crunch_.

Many things happened at once. Kylre began backing up, tensing to leap away as pure instinct took over. Nott whipped her crossbow out of its invisible hiding spot and trained it on the lizard-man. Beau balled her fists up and Yasha’s stance went aggressive and Caleb started preparing himself to hide behind the nearest large object. But over all of that, in the shocked silence, as Fjord tumbled down the wall and crumbled against the ground, Jester saw, and watched, and eyes went wide.

Then she screamed. It was not with fear, or grief, or shock.

It was with rage. Absolute, pure and unfiltered fury.

A bolt of holy fire slammed down from the heavens and blasted into Kylre, enveloping him in searing white flame. The crate beneath him exploded into shrapnel. Jester immediately spun around, darted over to Fjord’s side. Molly re-drew his two scimitars and Caleb, with nothing else left to do, set his hands ablaze.

And then they all froze, as the faint sound of someone singing spun into the air.

Caleb felt the music creep along his ear, sneak through his iron-like paranoia and caress his cheeks. It was a warm sound, that felt like the sunlight through the trees or the feeling of a cat purring under his hands. Despite the tense scene before him, he suddenly wanted to lie down, to close his eyes, to relax and just drink in this warm song. All around him, he saw the others do the same, pause in their movements and sway with the melody. Even Jester, who was bent over Fjord’s quiet body and pouring healing magic into his chest, hesitated.

Suddenly, something else happened. The song abruptly turned sour, turned angry, and Caleb felt a horrible discordant note slam into his skull. It stabbed into his mind and twisted hard, dragged out dusty pictures that he had tried to bury, images of a pair of warm smiles, of a fields of endless grain, of a cold hand and icy pride and quiet night and the sharp _hiss_ of straw catching fire—

—it was almost too much. He almost collapsed on the spot. But something else was running through his hearing now, something deeper than these memories and carved into his bones. It was a voice. It was familiar. It said:

_Concentrate. It is not real. It is all in the mind, and the mind is a mage’s greatest weapon._

Caleb shrugged off the terror threatening to swallow him. He saw that the rest had too, in their own way somehow, and were shaking their heads, clearing their minds, pushing off the sound of the music—though he noticed that Beau looked worst of them all.

And then Kylre stood. He looked somewhat singed, and the debris around him glowed from Jester’s fire. He looked up at the windows, within reach but too small to fit through. His gaze turned to the only other exit in the warehouse, a large metal door currently being blocked by two humans, a goblin, and his former coworkers.

He made a choice. He leapt forward, broad, muscular arms swinging out in a desperate, enraged attack.

And he met Yasha and Beau, both ready with a flurry of blows, Yasha’s slow but powerful and Beau making sharp, rapid jabs. Molly, despite having his swords at the ready, seemed too reluctant to actually make any swipes, instead started shouting at Kylre with harsh, guttural words. Nott had no such reservations, instead scrambling onto a crate and beginning to fire as many bolts as she could. And sighing, with nothing else to do, Caleb pointed a finger at Kylre and sent a spout of flame in the lizard-man’s direction, doing his best not to burn any of his friends.

For the second time in only a few hours, the group came together. They weren’t actually going for a kill this time—Kylre was Molly and Yasha’s friend, for the gods’ sake. But as the lizard-man made his intentions clear, that he would do his best to eliminate every single one of them and flee, they cracked down. Caleb’s spells missed more often than not now, left with only cantrips, and Beau didn’t have the advantage of table-pieces to use as weapons, but they were still a formidable bunch.

The only problem was the singing. Every few seconds, they had to pause and clap their hands against their ears, wincing with pain. It was impossible to avoid, and Kylre would manage to land a rough strike whenever Beau or Yasha or Molly heard the song.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw a tiny shape huddled behind one of the crates. It was Toya, crouched in a pool of moonlight, trembling as she sang.

Caleb believed he was a loyal friend to Nott. He believed he was a decent companion for Frumpkin.

But he also believed, over everything else, that he was a complete and utter piece of trash.

“Beauregard!” he yelled, pointing at Toya’s tiny figure. “Make her stop! End the song!”

Beau, bless her heart, only needed a second to understand. “Got it!” she yelled. She immediately broke away from the melee, leapt over crates and pushed boxes aside and launched herself at the little dwarf girl, who immediately yelped with terror and tried to back away. But Beau was too fast, and succeeded in pinning her to the ground.

She was screaming her song now, tears spilling down her cheeks, and Beau looked back at Caleb in confusion. “What do I do?!” she yelled.

“ _Scheisse_ , Beau, just knock her out!”

Beau seemed more puzzled than anything else. Then she just shook her head, wound her fist back, and hit Toya in the head.

The child went limp.

And with that, and a final, brutal strike from Yasha’s elbow against his skull, Kylre went down with a mighty _thump_ and the battle ended.

“Ow,” said Fjord in the resounding silence, and struggled to sit up. He winced, and put a hand against his side. “Fuck,” he added.

Molly lowered his swords. They were glowing and icy again, but as he relaxed his shoulders the light faded and the ice started to melt away.

“How are you feeling, there?” he called. His voice was strained, and couldn’t seem to make himself look away from Kylre’s fallen form.

“Alright, I think?” Fjord said. “But I also think my ribs are broken.”

“They _were_ broken,” Jester informed him. “Now they are just bruised.”

“Well then,” he said. “Uh...thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Beau stood up also, a small blonde girl in her arms. “I’ve got a kid,” she said. “I mean, uh, _the_ kid.”

“Great,” Molly said. “This is...a situation.”

Nott climbed down from her crate and made her way over, Beau doing the same and carrying Toya. Caleb sighed, and his hands went out.

“Now what?” he asked. “What do we do about...all this?”

“We’re gonna have to move him somehow,” Fjord said. “People might come here in the morning.”

“Agreed,” Molly said. “I just don’t understand... _why_ would he attack us like that? Why would he do that? We’re _friends_!”

“Apparently not as good of friends as you thought,” Yasha said. “I think—”

In the distance, soft but growing louder, a high-pitched wail.

Police sirens.

They all looked at each other.

“Was that a—”

“Fuck, what do—”

“No way, could—”

“Gods, this is—”

Fjord, with Jester’s help, managed to stand. “We gotta get out of here,” he said. “Now.”

“I agree,” Beau said immediately. “I don’t wanna be around for any cops.”

“But what about Kylre?” Molly asked. “We can’t drag him, and they won’t react well to seeing him here.”

“There is nothing else we can do,” Yasha said gently. “And he attacked us. And tried to kidnap Toya.”

“They were friends, though,” Jester said quietly. “I think he really was trying to help her.”

The sirens were getting closer.

“We need to go _now_ ,” Fjord said. “We gotta leave him behind.”

“ _Fuck_!” Molly yelled. “I don’t...I can’t...he was my _friend_!”

Caleb put a hand on his shoulder.

“There is nothing we can do for him,” he said firmly. “And he attacked us first. We have to go.”

“Where can we hide?” Nott asked.

Fjord spoke first. “Molly and I live not too far from here,” he said. “If we can slip outta this marina, we can hole up in our place until everything calms down.”

They all considered Kylre’s unconscious form. They all looked at Molly.

“Fine,” he said angrily. “Fucking...fucking fine.” he sighed, and shook his head. “Come on, then,” he nodded to the group. “Let’s...let’s just go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo some morally grey decisions to end a chapter, huh? Also, happy thursday and thanks for reading!! 
> 
> Also, I just want to let you guys know that I probably won't be adapting the entire plot of the campaign to this AU! There are already a few storylines I have planned out, that don't really match what the m9 in-game get up to (but don't worry, there are still TONS more characters to introduce). I just thought that this kylre-event would mesh well, and help me get to where I want these kids to go (and also hint a BUNCH at their backgrounds. How did they even manage to handle themselves in _two_ crazy fights like that?
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you have some fun prompts or just want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all!!


	7. Early-Morning Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7! Featuring: molly's interior decorating, tea, conversations, pajama time, laundry, and revelations

“Here,” Molly said as he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of teacups. “It’s passionflower. It’s supposed to be calming, which I think we could probably use right about now.”

They were all seated around his and Fjord’s coffee table, sprawled atop a sea of technicolor cushions and blankets. Those, along with the bright floral wallpaper, plush carpet, lace doilies on the TV stand, and deeply gaudy 15-foot tapestry to the Platinum Dragon hanging on their left, only added to the general feeling that this living room had been decorated by a colorblind, rules-blind, shame-blind maniac with too many tastes, too much funding, and altogether too much free time.

So, Mollymauk.

He finished passing around the cups and took a seat on the floor next to Yasha. “Careful,” he added, “they’re still hot.”

“It smells very nice.” Caleb noted. He and Nott were also on the ground, across the table and leaning against the couch where Fjord rested, hands on his ribs, head in Jester’s lap. Beau was perched on the armrest of the sofa opposite them.

“Thank you, dear,” Molly said. “I rather think so too.”

Jester nodded enthusiastically. “It’s _really_ nice. Where’d you buy it?”

“I didn’t, actually. It was a gift from a…a bar patron. She said she got it from some exotic tea shop.”

“Exotic?” Beau echoed.

Molly shot her a grin. “According to the owner, all of the flowers were grown in a graveyard.”

Fjord nearly spat out his drink. “How long’ve you been _making_ this in our _kitchen_?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, months.”

Fjord gazed morosely into his cup. “Spooky.”

“ _I_ think it’s neat,” Molly shrugged. “I’d love to visit that graveyard, one day. Meet the owner.”

Nott eyed her drink suspiciously. “How’s this supposed to calm you without any alcohol?” she demanded. Her gnome disguise had long faded by now, leaving behind a goblin girl in a tattered hoodie. There was a crossbow casually resting next to her on the carpet.

“Tea has soothing effects,” Molly said. “Look it up.”

She considered this. She took a swig, then made a face. The others drank too, with varying degrees of satisfaction (Caleb, Yasha, Jester, Beau) and disgust (Fjord).

For a while they just sat there in silence, nursing the graveyard tea, listening through the walls to the distant sounds typical of apartment life, trying to wrap their minds around what had just happened. Each one of them looked like they had just run a marathon and gotten pummeled at the end—Beau and Yasha were bruised to hell, Molly had a thick bandage wrapped around his palm, Jester’s dress was torn and Nott’s covered in mud and Caleb’s entire body smelled like a forest fire.

And all of them were acutely aware that if not for a certain blue cleric, there was a chance that Fjord might not have been sitting with them in the living room, tonight.

Thankfully, he was. And he was also sighing now, turning to the rest of the group. “So…” he said slowly, “should we maybe talk about…what just happened?”

Then he gestured vaguely over to Molly’s bedroom door. “And about what to do with Toya? She’s unconscious _now_ , but when she wakes up and realizes that we’ve suddenly _kidnapped_ her—”

“We didn’t, though,” Beau said immediately. “We _stopped_ someone who was trying to kidnap her.”

Molly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Technically…I suppose you’re right,” he said, “but I don’t know if she’ll see it that way. She was part of the troupe, but nobody actually had custody of her. We found her on the streets, for the gods’ sake. But Kylre was her constant companion. Probably her best friend. What he was doing might have been ill-conceived and suspicious and wrong—

“—and creepy,” Beau added.

“—but out of all of us, she was definitely closest to _him_.”

Yasha nodded. “When she wakes and sees that Kylre is missing, she will not react well.”

“The only good part is that at least she’ll recognize us,” Molly sighed. Then he kicked the coffee table half-heartedly and slumped his shoulders. “I don’t understand _why _Kylre ever attacked like that. He _knows___ us.”

“He probably felt cornered and resorted to instinct,” Yasha reasoned.

“To be completely fair,” Beau pointed out, “he didn’t actually do anything until Jester blasted him full of…of fuckin’ holy light, or whatever.”

“He threw Fjord against a wall,” said cleric responded testily. “And it wasn’t 100% on purpose.”

Fjord hesitated. “Is that…should I be thanking you for that?”

She shrugged and said anyways, “You’re welcome.”

“I just never thought he could _do_ something like that,” Molly muttered glumly.

“Well,” Caleb shrugged and took another sip of tea. “I can understand attacking someone who tried to control me with magic.”

There was a pause, where the rest stared at him in silence.

It took him a few seconds to notice. “What?” he asked, lowering his cup. “Why are you all looking at me?”

“What do you mean by, by…control with _magic_?” Molly asked.

Caleb blinked. “ _Was_? Obviously, your Friends spell did not go over well. Do not worry, it is a reasonable reaction.”

Molly gave him a puzzled frown. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I didn’t cast any _spell_. I don’t even know how to do that.”

Caleb looked just as confused as Molly felt. “But you did,” he pressed. “I saw you do it. All of us did, no?”

This elicited a round of shrugging.

“If I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Fjord said. “I don’t…uh…I don’t really know much about magic.”

“Neither do I,” said Yasha.

“I know a little,” Beau admitted.

“I know a bunch,” Jester said, “but nothing about wizard magic.”

“And I don’t have Friends,” Nott added.

Caleb rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Well, you _did_ ,” he said. “I should know. Maybe it is a tiefling thing, and you are only just coming into your abilities. Unless you have prior magical training…?”

Molly instantly shook his head. “None,” he said. “None at all.”

Nobody else caught it, but Yasha frowned slightly and turned to look at him.

“I’ve got natural magic,” Jester volunteered. “You probably do too.”

“I buy that,” Fjord sighed, shifting on the cushions. “And it makes sense if he panicked at your…your mind control, or whatever. But why did he bolt from the Moondrop in the first place?”

“Oh, that one’s easy,” Nott said. “He looks like a monster. If he were there at the scene of the crime, they’d blame him.”

They paused and that sink in. Jester silently reached down and pulled Nott up onto the couch with her, plopping the little goblin onto her knee and nudging Fjord aside.

“Well alright then,” Beau said eventually. “Asked and answered.”

“Unless,” Caleb said quietly, tapping his chin, “unless Kylre _was_ guilty. Hear me out,” he added, raising his hands quickly. “Remember, he got _worried_ when we said that we had taken care of that strange grey creature. Like he was afraid of us, for destroying it. Not glad that it was gone, or relieved it was no longer rampaging and threatening his home. Why? Perhaps because he thought we _knew_ something, and we were coming after the source next.”

They took a moment to consider this.

After a while, Molly shook his head and shrugged. “Maybe,” he conceded. “ _Maybe_ that’s possible. But it’s awful that we just left him there. Even if we had no choice. It still feels like we abandoned him.”

Caleb nodded solemnly. “Understood,” he said.

“I hope they are not too hard on him,” Yasha sighed. “The best case would be they just arrest him and release him with Gustav when everything is over.”

“That would be ideal,” Fjord agreed. “Especially if he _is_ innocent.”

Molly leaned back, resting his head on the pillows. “This whole thing was a mess,” he mumbled. “And now I’m bleeding and exhausted and covered in mud.”

“You could take a shower,” Jester suggested. “It _is_ your house.”

He cracked a smile at that. “I might. All of you can as well,” he added, “since we’re rather filthy.”

“I feel fine,” Nott said immediately. “No need for any of that.”

As Molly shot her a skeptical glance, Fjord closed his eyes and draped an arm over his face. “What time is it?” he asked.

Beau glanced at her phone. “Twelve forty-two,” she said.

He nodded. “In that case, y’all are also more than welcome to stay the night,” he said. “The streets are crawling with police right now, and I have a feeling you wouldn’t wanna run into them. Plus, it’s not the safest, afterhours.” He gestured vaguely at the room around them. “This probably isn’t the most glamorous place to be, but there are plenty of blankets and cushions in the living room, and we can grab some quilts off me and Molly’s beds. I know for sure I ain’t moving any more than I have to, tonight. The couch is it, for me. And there’s a little dwarf girl in Mol’s room.”

“Oooh!” Jester grinned immediately. “A sleepover! We can all stay out here and keep them company!”

“Yeah, sure,” Beau shrugged. “It would be boring at home without you anyways, Jes.”

“I would like to avoid the police,” Yasha said quietly. “I do not want to explain to them why I am still outdoors after the Detective Sergeant told me to go inside.”

“And it’s been a bit since our days bunking together in the old dressing room, eh?” Molly added in an attempt to lighten the mood. Yasha nodded back with a faint smile.

Caleb glanced at Nott, who had at this point almost completely submerged herself into a pile of pillows. Despite having survived two ridiculous battles today, she looked brighter—and warmer—than she ever had in their apartment.

“If you are alright with us staying,” Caleb said slowly, “then we will definitely take up that offer.”

Nott immediately nodded her agreement and burrowed deeper into the nest.

“Heck yeah!” Jester beamed. “Oh, it’ll be so much fun, we can stay up and braid each other’s hair, and tell each other stories, and—”

Molly put a hand up and gave her a weak smile. “Jester, dear,” he said gently, “normally I would be all for that, but do you think maybe tonight we could just take it easy and get some real rest? I, no joke, lost blood tonight. And I’m pretty sure we desperately need the sleep.”

Jester’s shoulders slumped, but she took in the worn-out shapes of Beau and Yasha, the wrecked ribcage of Fjord, and the ragged faces of Caleb, Nott, and Molly. Her expression turned soft and she nodded.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Here, I’ll help you get some quilts.”

Molly stood up slowly and extended an elbow for her to take, and she giggled and did.

“We’ll be back,” he said. “I’ll grab some more tea, too. In the meantime, all of you clean up! I don’t want my stuff getting any dirtier than it already has.” 

\--------------------------------------

“Hey!” Molly stuck his head into the bathroom, nearly scaring the life out of Caleb. “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, gesturing in a calming manner. “I just brought you a toothbrush. And you can use my razor if you need to. It’s the purple one.”

Caleb was standing in front of the mirror, examining his face and wiping the grime away from his skin with a towel Jester had launched at him not ten minutes ago. Being this careful with his personal grooming was still somewhat new to him, but he felt like he needed to make an effort in someone else’s home. His battered coat dangled off the back of the door, and his tie hung limply from one of the pockets.

“Oh,” he said, turning around. “Ah…thank you. I should be fine, but the toothbrush is appreciated.”

He took it from Molly’s hands, and then paused.

“I just…uh…I just wanted to say, there is no shame in casting magic unawares,” he said slowly.

Molly raised an eyebrow and his lips quirked into a confused smile. “Whatever do you mean, dear?” he asked.

Caleb blinked and tried again. “Just that…well…you seemed somewhat bothered before when I said that you had cast Friends. It is not unheard of, when emotions are running high, to accidentally trigger a spell. I have done it once or twice without meaning to, just on instinct. You are not alone there.”

Molly immediately opened his mouth to say something. And then he paused, and closed it again.

He met Caleb’s concerned gaze and nodded. “Okay,” he said. His tone was much more subdued than before. “That’s…uh…that’s good to know, I think. Thank you.”

“Er…no problem?”

Molly nodded. Then his expression brightened again and he said, "Hey! Hey, let me also grab you some pajamas. I can definitely find you something better for the night than muddy performance attire.”

“Er…er…I am fine though,” Caleb said, thrown by the sudden shift in conversation. “I do not, uh, need anything fancy.”

Molly snorted. “You’re already _wearing_ fancy, dear. I can’t imagine that a collared shirt and slacks are comfortable to sleep in. Let me lend you something! I _must_ have another t-shirt and some clean boxers somewhere.”

Caleb’s ears went red. He hoped that Molly wouldn’t notice. “Really,” he said. “Really, I am fine—”

Molly shook his head and waved a finger in front of Caleb’s nose. “Nonsense!” he said. “You’re my guest tonight. I’ve got to make sure you’ve got everything you need. Besides, Beau already stole some of Fjord’s stuff, and Jester keeps a spare set of pajamas here. We managed to find a t-shirt that fit Yasha and I convinced Nott to take one from me already as well. So it’s only you left, Mister Caleb.”

Caleb considered mounting a defense. He had the words on the tip of his tongue, until he caught Molly’s pleading eyes and excited grin. He sighed and nodded in defeat. “Sure,” he said. “ _Ja_ , okay. But not anything too ridiculous, alright?”

Molly put a hand over his heart. “Ridiculous? What do you take me for?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “There are lace doilies on your TV stand,” he said.

Molly laughed. “Point taken,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then winked and vanished behind the doorframe.

Caleb looked down at the toothbrush in his hands. It was bright purple, with glittery pink flowers on it. He wondered what store in the world would carry something like this. Then he sighed again, and reached for the toothpaste.

\--------------------------------------

“Those were, uh, those were some pretty sick moves,” Beau said over the basket of dirty clothes in her arms. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Yasha, swinging a bottle of liquid detergent in her hands, paused. “Er…nowhere, really,” she said slowly. “I just sort of…learned.”

She crouched down in front of Molly and Fjord’s washing machine and motioned for Beau to pass over the laundry.

“Where did you learn _your_ skills?” she asked absent-mindedly, gaze fixed on the series of dials before her. “You handled yourself well in the fight. Both of them.”

She was so busy trying to decide if their clothes were dirty enough to justify using the “heavy-duty” setting that she completely missed Beau’s eyes going wide and cheeks turning red.

“Uh…nowhere also,” came the somewhat strained reply. “I also just…kinda…learned them.”

Yasha settled on “ultra-clean,” and started pouring detergent in.

“It was impressive,” she said. “Like you had been in real fights before.”

Beau snorted. “Of course I’ve been in real fights,” she said. “I’m a bouncer, remember? I might not look as tough as you, but I can handle myself in a scrap.”

“I will admit,” and here Yasha reached for the laundry basket, “I was somewhat worried about you during the battles. You are just so…small.” Then she immediately turned around and met Beau’s incredulous expression and added hastily, “Not, not in a bad way! Not that you are weak, or defenseless, or…er…” she trailed off and rubbed the back of her neck. “You are just surprising,” she finished lamely. “That is all.”

In the awkward silence that followed, Beau struggled to form a response. She settled on:

“Uh…thanks?”

“You are…welcome.”

Behind them, water started pouring out of the washing machine. Their attention instantly shifted.

“Quick!” Beau yelled, gesturing wildly. “Quick, quick, close it!”

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Yasha whirled around and kicked the machine’s door. It swung shut with a loud _clunk_. The flood stopped, leaving them standing in a shallow puddle of foamy, soapy water.

“I’ll just…uh…get a mop, then?” Beau suggested eventually.

Yasha nodded slowly. “I think…yes. I think that would be a good idea.”

\--------------------------------------

“Are you comfy?” Jester asked Fjord, handing him another pillow. From somewhere else in the apartment she could hear the sound of bare feet slapping wetly against hardwood floors, then a strange skidding noise, then the crash of someone colliding with the hallway closet.

They elected to ignore this.

“Plenty comfortable,” he answered, giving her a faint smile. “Thanks a million again, Jes. Really. I’m pretty sure I owe you my life for gettin’ me outta that scrap in one piece.”

“Aww,” she beamed, “it was nothing.”

He shook his head. “It _wasn’t_ , though. Seriously, that was some pretty incredible magic. I mean, I _knew_ you could heal, I’ve seen you do it with papercuts and stuff before, but…but Jester, I had a shattered ribcage. And now it’s…it’s _fixed_. How did you even _do_ that?”

She shrugged. “The same way I do the other stuff!” she said. “We talked about it before, it was the Traveler! He gives me all sorts of cool powers.”

“Yeah,” Fjord said, “yeah, I remember that. I just…I didn’t know he could do… _all_ that.”

“He’s a god, silly,” Jester giggled. “He can do anything.”

Fjord nodded slowly. “Right. Right, of course. Hey, uh, just out of curiosity, how _much_ do you think he—”

“Alright!” Molly announced, entering the living room. He was now in his silk pajamas, being trailed by a very reluctant, very embarrassed-looking Caleb dressed in an oversized rainbow t-shirt and what appeared to be a pair of long, rainbow tie-dyed pants of indeterminate material, completely covered with images of smiling cat heads. They were obviously meant for someone taller, and completely obscured his feet.

Fjord had seen these pants before, worn by Molly unironically a few months ago. Jester had never seen this much color on Caleb’s body before.

Nott emerged from her cocoon of blankets under the coffee table and gave him a cursory once-over.

“Well…” she said eventually, “I’ll support you if this is how you want to dress from now. It’s very…flashy.”

“You. Look. Amazing!” Jester declared, running over to admire the outfit in closer detail. “Where did you get these?”

Molly grinned. “I have no idea,” he said. “That’s the best part, really.”

Caleb had his hands on his face now, to prevent anybody from making eye contact with him. “It was the most tame thing in Mollymauk’s closet,” he said dejectedly. “It was either this or a suit made of sequins, some sort of leather harness, lederhosen, or a vampire cloak.”

“Or paisley,” Molly added helpfully. “There was a lot of paisley.”

“Right,” Caleb mumbled. “That too.”

“I’m making this my new phone background,” Jester said, reaching for her cell. “I’m going to take photos and then print out copies and then staple them to every telephone pole in this city.”

“Please no,” Caleb protested weakly. “Just…no.”

“Let’s spare the poor man and just keep some blackmail images for ourselves, eh?” Molly suggested. “Some things are better kept private, after all.”

Jester laughed. “Okay, okay,” she said. “But I wasn’t kidding about the phone background part.”

Then Beau and Yasha emerged from the hallway as well. They were also dressed in baggy t-shirts, but their shorts were much more tame and definitely had come from Fjord. Strangely, their feet were soaked. As they approached, they both stopped in their tracks and stared at Caleb.

“You look like a pride parade threw up on your ass,” Beau said. “And then a cat shelter.”

“Do those belong to Mollymauk?” Yasha asked.

“Can we _please_ just go to _bed_?” Caleb groaned. “Please? Lights off and nobody looking at my legs?”

Beau snorted. “If I know Molly, it’s not the legs he’s—”

She was cut off as Yasha pointedly nudged her with an elbow and shook her head. Beau pouted, but relented.

Molly gave a cough and glared at Beau. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I think maybe going to bed is a good idea. 2AM seems like the perfect time finally get some sleep, huh?”

“Amen to that,” Fjord called from the couch. “I’m not talking to any of you anymore, until I’ve had a full eight hours.”

Jester yawned and nodded. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “Besides, I used a lot of magic today and I’m pretty tired.”

Molly waltzed over to the wall and shut the lights, letting a quiet blanket of darkness settle over the apartment.

“Good night, everyone,” he grinned. His eyes glimmered red in the gloom. “Sleep tight. And don’t let the goblins bite.”

“Fuck you,” Nott grumbled. Her voice was muffled by her pillow fortress.

And then, with that, the group finally settled in for well-deserved late-night—early-morning—rest.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 2:28 AM

**Molly Tealeaf:** well, what a mess eh, mister caleb?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im so sorry the night didn’t turn out the way id hoped  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and im sorry we ended up having to fight two insane monsters  
**Molly Tealeaf:** if im being frank, it was a load of bullshite  
**Molly Tealeaf:** an quite a bit happened that I really could have done without  
**Molly Tealeaf:** including that magic nonsense you were going on about earlier  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but hey!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i AM still happy you decided to come  
**Molly Tealeaf:** perhaps i’ll get to sing for you another time  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and nice moves!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** where’d you learn to cast spells like that?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** don’t worry, I know I won’t be getting an answer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night, sleep tight  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I hope my living room floor suffices!

 --------------------------------------

“Hey, asshole! Hey, hey, asshole, get up!”

Molly groaned loudly, shook his head, turned over, and awoke to see a mouth full of razor-sharp, crooked teeth hovering about four inches above his head.

It smelled like hot spit, and death.

As Molly took a moment to recover from the abject terror coursing through his body, Nott tapped her fingernails impatiently against her knee. Eventually, he rubbed his eyes and managed to sit up.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he asked groggily.

She pointed to the TV set. The rest of the group were already awake and gathered around the screen, peering intently at whatever was playing at the moment in the dim light of early-morning winter.

Molly followed their gazes. It was the morning news.

_—a scene of carnage last night at the Moondrop & Fletching, where during the establishment’s 25th Anniversary Performance, a member of the audience transformed into a creature that immediately began attacking the other patrons. After a brief battle, it was subdued by the brave members of our city’s Crownsguard—_

“Hey, that’s a lie!” Jester frowned, but was immediately shushed by the rest.

_—of this morning, clerics have confirmed that the main suspect, owner Gustav Fletching, is innocent. The real culprit, identified by police as one of the performers, was captured at around 1:30AM not three blocks away, hiding in a Menagerie Merchant Company warehouse along the Eistus Marina. This individual reportedly masqueraded as a common lizard-man among the Moondrop’s other performers for two years, concealing his true identity as a Nergaliid. Better known as “devil toads,” Nergaliids are fiendish creatures originating from the wastelands of Xhorhas—_

“ _What_?” Molly shouted.

“Hang on, hang on, shut up,” Beau said.

_—a common feeding pattern for these terrible monsters. Police are now working with monks of the Cobalt Soul to investigate if this was a singular event, or if it was in any way connected to the recent string of skirmishes along the Xhorhastian border. This is Cora Underbough, reporting for the Daily Crier from the King’s Hall. Stay tuned for more updates—_

Nott lowered the volume and set the remote back down onto the coffee table.

“ _That’s_ why I woke you all up,” she said. “That, and I was starting to get bored.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said, rubbing his eyes. “Very…informative.”

“A _what_?” Molly repeated. “He was a _what_?”

“Nergaliid,” Beau said. “Open your ears.”

Molly shot her a half-hearted glare. “I heard what she _said_ ,” he muttered. “I was just…just expressing my shock.”

Yasha nodded slowly. “I admit…I did not realize what he was either. I always thought…I mean…he told us he was a lizard-man, and we...we believed him.”

“Are we _sure_ that he really is a, a, a nerg-thing, though?” Jester asked. “What if it’s just the city looking for a goat to scrape?”

“A scapegoat?” Fjord asked.

“Yeah, that one.”

Beau shrugged. “It’s possible,” she said, “but to be completely honest, if the Cobalt Soul is involved, then it’s probably the truth. Those fuckers hate lying, even for the government. It goes against their beliefs, and stuff.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

Beau gave another shrug, this one more evasive. “Dunno for sure,” she said lightly. “I guess it’s one of those things I just sorta picked up. Through like…social osmosis.”

Caleb understandably did not seem convinced, but he dropped the subject.

Molly sighed. “I just…I just can’t believe any of that. I mean…it seems _wrong_ , doesn’t it? Doesn’t it feel like—”

And then he paused, as a wave of, of… _something_ suddenly washed over him. It felt like he was being engulfed by sensations, his vision blurring and his hearing fading. For a split second, his mind was flooded with an inundation of knowledge, of information, of foreign memories that told him: _that’s it, that’s exactly it, how could you have missed it? The large stature, the ragged speech, the glowing eyes and thick scales and long tongue, the way he clung to living things and held Toya close, of course it was a Nergaliid, of course it was, how did you miss that—_

He shook his head. He blinked a few times, and saw his friends staring back at him with extremely concerned expressions.

“Are you…alright?” Yasha asked.

Molly hesistated. He waited to see if any other intrusive thoughts would strike, and when none did, he gave her a faint smile.

“Of course I am, dear,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” Beau said, “maybe it’s ‘cause you just completely spaced out and you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and—”

And then, the door to Molly’s room opened.

A very small dwarven girl in a long white dress came out, rubbing her eyes and looking thoroughly bewildered.

She met the gazes of the group sitting in the living room. She saw Molly and Yasha, and her confusion grew.

“Um…” she said softly, voice breaking like gravel underfoot, “…um, where am I? What’s going on?”

Molly glanced over at Yasha. “What time is it?” he asked quietly.

She checked her phone. “Almost seven.”

Molly nodded. “Do you think you could shoot the whole gang a text? See what’s going on, maybe if we can get a meeting together? If the news is right then Gustav should be out by now. I feel like…I feel like we all need to have a chat.”

Then he turned towards Toya and gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll fill you in on everything, dear,” he said. “But first, maybe you’d like some breakfast?”

He nodded to the rest of the group. “You all, too. I make _great_ blueberry pancakes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooo alrighty! I hope you all enjoyed that impromptu sleepover! Next chapter, we wrap up what I've been referring to in my head as Arc 1, and we start getting into the juicy juicy stuff I have planned, including but not limited to: winter festivities, ice skating, Molly and Newfound Free Time, Increasing Emotions, Fjord and Jester's new apartment
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going, and consider sharing this with a friend! If you have some fun prompts or just want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! 
> 
> Love you all!!


	8. A Note beside the Tray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thanks for your patience! Here we go, featuring the end of an arc, future planning, E M O T I O N, Beau's mysteries continue and lots of formatting for moi to do

  **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 9:08AM

 **Lavender Thunder:** soooooooo good news and bad news  
**Lavender Thunder:** the GOOD news is that gustav isn’t arrested and the cops have cooled off and nobody else is dead  
**Seaman:** that is pretty good news  
**Lavender Thunder:** yeah well  
**Lavender Thunder:** the bad news is that kylre isn’t going to be around anymore  
**Lavender Thunder:** and that I think we might need to find some new jobs  
**Lavender Thunder:** the Moondrop is gonna be out of commission for like  
**Lavender Thunder:** kind of a while

\--------------------------------------

Jester, from where she stood next to the couch with her hands over Fjord’s ribs, watched Molly make his way through the front door and into the living room. “What does ‘a while’ mean?” she asked as he approached. “Like…how long is that, exactly?”

Molly collapsed onto the sofa opposite them and shrugged. “My best guess? Probably over half a year,” he said glumly. “It’s mostly to raise funding. Gustav says that he’s got to pay off a heavy fine to the city for all the endangerment his ‘employee’ caused before he’s even allowed to _start_ rebuilding, and then there’s the cost of repairs and the cost of new furniture and the cost of new equipment. Not to mention how _long_ it’ll take to actually fix everything. You should keep an eye out too, Fjord,” he added with a nod to the half-orc, “word on the street is that Fletch will also be closed in the meantime. Gustav or Desmond will probably send out some kind of notice later on today.”

Fjord sighed. “Yeah, I figured something like that might happen.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime, then?” Jester asked. “And what’s everybody else doing?”

“I’m not sure about myself yet,” Molly shrugged. “I know Gustav and Desmond are going to stick around and oversee reconstruction. Everyone else is taking time off to travel and visit family. The Sisters are going back to Felderwin for a bit, and Bosun says he’s going to go backpacking through the countryside. Yasha also took off to do…whatever it is she always does. And Ornna’s taking care of Toya now, though I’m not entirely sure what that entails.”

“I take it that Kylre’s out of the picture, then?” Fjord asked.

“Yeah, what exactly _happened_ to him, anyways?” Jester asked. “You need should be less vague over text.”

Molly’s expression immediately went dark. “It’s…not great, dear. Kylre…well, after the authorities determined that he was a fiend, they elected to…to…”

Fjord sat up as best as he could. “What, Molly? What did they do?”

Molly’s shoulders sagged. “They took him to the Zauber Spire,” he said. “They’re banishing him to the Nine Hells.”

“ _What?!_ ” Jester shouted. “What do you mean, _banishing_?”

“I mean that they’re going to send him there for good,” Molly mumbled. “According to what Gustav told us, the police decided that because he’s a fiend, he should be sent back to where ‘his kind’ reside. Whatever the _fuck_ that means.”

Fjord reached out a hand as if to comfort him, and then thought better of it.

“Fuck, Mol,” he said instead. “I’m…I’m sorry."

Mollymauk shrugged listlessly. “It’s no fault of yours,” he said. “It was just…shitty. Complete horseshite.”

They sat there in silence for a few more moments. The distant sound of cars honking drifted up from the streets and through the window.

“Well…” Jester tried eventually, “…at least everybody else is okay?”

Molly snorted. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, at least there’s that. I guess…I don’t know, I guess in a weird way, life will go on. Just without one of the troupe now, and with a lot of dumb financial problems.”

“Fuck…yeah,” Fjord sighed. “This means I gotta find a new place to work. For the time being, anyhow.”

Jester’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit!” she said. “Does that…does that still mean we can move in? Or are we going to have to wait a bit, now? I mean,” she added hastily, “it’s okay if we do, totally cool—”

Fjord reached for her hand, and she relaxed.

“It’ll be fine,” he said gently. “As soon as my damn ribs get better, I’ll ask around and see what’s available. Maybe there’ll be something I can pick up at the Leaky Tap, or somethin’, and we can go from there. But…Molly, will _you_ be alright?”

Molly hesitated. He thought for a moment about his bank account, and then considered how tired he was.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Maybe?”

Jester, despite the mood, giggled. “That doesn’t sound very responsible of you,” she said.

He gave her a half-smile. “We managed to negotiate the rent down for this year, and I’ve got plenty saved up. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually spend _that_ much money.”

“It’s true,” Fjord agreed. “He eats at the Moondrop all the time and gets people to buy him stuff that he sells.”

Molly grinned. “I’m a financial wizard,” he nodded. Then he paused, and added, “but maybe I should look into finding a roommate. If you two decide to go ahead with the apartment plan, that is.”

“We’ll see,” they both said at the same time.

“Alright, you two, alright,” Molly laughed. “Keep me posted. I’m gonna need time if I’m gonna scout someone out that snores less than Fjord. Honestly, I don’t envy you, Jester.”

She started giggling again. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll make Caleb find me a silence spell that I can cast on him every night.”

“Hey!” Fjord protested, and then winced. He settled for sinking back down onto the cushions and pouting. “It’s not _that_ bad, is it?”

“It’s really bad,” said Molly. “It’s literally the loudest sound in the entire world.”

\--------------------------------------

“That can’t be enough,” Nott commented as she peered over Caleb’s shoulder. “Look at how much water there is! That little cup is nothing.”

“It’s the right amount,” Caleb sighed and turned around to face her. “Believe me, I have done this hundreds of times before.”

“How come?” she asked. “Did you go camping a lot as a kid?”

They were both kneeling in the bathroom, positioned on the tiled floor next to the edge of a very full bathtub. Caleb had begrudgingly dipped into the month’s budgeted water usage, telling himself that he’d take less showers, and after heating the bath with a few magic spells, they were both currently blanketed by a thick layer of steam.

That smelled, rather strongly, of vinegar.

“Not exactly campfires,” Caleb said lightly, “but I suppose that works. Anyways, this is the best way to remove ashy smells from our clothing. I feel terrible, ruining them like this in battle. Especially since your dress was brand new, Nott.”

The little goblin shrugged. “It’s fine,” she said, “ _I_ don’t really think they’re ruined.”

“I am sure that you do not, though others may have differing opinions.”

“They always do,” she said solemnly. “I always ignore them.”

They finished hanging up their fancy attire on the neck of the showerhead, then left the bathroom and shut the door tightly behind them. Caleb moved towards his bed, flopped down and buried his face into the pillow. He felt a light weight sink into the mattress near the space by his foot, and he shifted slightly to give Nott more room.

“Thanks,” she said.

“ _Bitte._ Gods, I am exhausted.”

“Me too,” she said. “I don’t even feel like doing anything today.”

“What a night that was, eh?” he asked, muffled but with a mild chuckle. “Certainly more than what I was expecting.”

“I don’t think _anyone_ could have predicted a giant toad monster would turn a guy into a zombie and then fight us in an abandoned warehouse,” said Nott.

There was a beat of silence.

“ _Ja_ okay,” he said. “Point taken.”

There was a longer silence after that, in which Nott sprawled upside-down off the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. Caleb shoved his face further into the pillow, and tried to think of a happy place. Or at least, a sleep-inducing one.

Then:

“Those were some pretty good pancakes, though.”

Caleb turned his head. “What?” he asked.

“Those pancakes,” Nott repeated. “That Molly made us. Those were really good.”

He blinked. “Er…yes,” he agreed hesitantly. “They were rather nice, yes.”

“And it was really nice of him to let us use his bathroom,” she said. “And it was nice that he gave us clothes, and blankets, and made us tea. Even if it was creepy tea.”

Caleb nodded slowly. “Yes?” he said. “That is…true. Er…is there something you have to say about all that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “There is. Last night was just…really nice. I liked it.”

“Despite the death and monster and fighting?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded. “Yeah. To be honest, I don’t think that stuff really matter too much.”

“ _Was_? Why is that?”

Nott smiled. “Because we have friends now,” she said. “A lot of them.”

Caleb rolled over onto his back and stared up at the chipped ceiling. He considered this.

“ _Ja_ …I suppose we do.”

Nott’s smile widened. “I like them,” she said. “It was fun before, with just the girls, but after everything we all went through together, it sort of feels like…I guess it sort of feels like this whole group is a family.”

Caleb felt something flicker in his chest. He tamped it down immediately.

“I see,” he said eventually.

Nott giggled. “It’s okay if you don’t want to agree with me. I know the truth, anyhow.”

“Do you? What is that?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

Nott closed her eyes again. “You like them too,” she said.

For a long, long while, Caleb thought of something to say.

And then, when nothing came, he closed his eyes as well, and eventually fell back asleep.

\--------------------------------------

“Beauregard!” Jester shouted, bursting into their apartment, “are you awake?! I am home! And ready to…”

She trailed off and looked around the empty kitchen. The lights were off, and the windows drawn shut, leaving only thin trails of light creeping in around the curtains. She dropped her purse, and the plastic bag that held her dress onto the floor, and took a few steps forward.

“Beau?” she called, quieter this time. “…Beau…? Are you there?”

Almost immediately, something began to stir at the back of her mind. Something heavy, and unbidden, and unnerving, and old. She felt her hand unconsciously reach into her pocket, and clutch a small metal object on a thick leather cord. She traced her fingers along its smooth surface, and relaxed slightly as a familiar warmth washed over her.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax further, and had just recovered her signature cheery smile when her eyes caught a single piece of paper lying on the kitchen table.

She ran towards it quicker than she probably would have liked. She immediately began to read the long, looping scrawl across its surface.

_Jes—_

_I went to take care of some shit. I’ll be back tonight, but I’m not sure if I’ll be ready to talk to you about it ‘til later. I trust you more than any of these other assholes we call friends, so please don’t be upset if I don’t say shit when I return, alright? And please, please don’t ask any questions. I promise that the second I’m ready, I’ll tell you everything._

_See you later,_

_Drunkmonk_

She stared at the frustratingly short letter for a few more seconds. She flipped it around, saw nothing, then flipped it back over.

“Beau will be back tonight,” she whispered. She took another deep breath, and nodded. She carefully folded the page and slid it into her pocket.

“Did you hear that, Traveler?” she asked the air in front of her. “Beau is fine! She’s just running errands. And, and she said that she _trusts_ me! Isn’t that cool?”

Jester was still, and silent for a moment. Her ears twitched as if listening to a far-off song.

“I agree,” she said eventually. “Also, thanks for helping out earlier with Fjord! I’m really glad he’s okay. And I’m really glad you were there for us.”

Another pause. Another strange, silent hum.

And then she laughed and nodded brightly. “That’s a _great_ idea! Come on, I think I remember where I put it. We were on chapter nine, right?”

And then she skipped into her bedroom, leaving the door wide open behind her.

\--------------------------------------

**TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Today | 6:19PM

**Seaman:** good news yall!  
**Seaman:** Wessick says that the Tap’s looking for an evening bartender, and he says ive got the job!  
**Seaman:** which ALSO means yall get a friends and family discount for karaoke  
**Seaman:** probably  
**Lavender Thunder:** HECK YEAH  
**Lavender Thunder:** THAT’S AWESOME FJORD  
**Lavender Thunder:** why didnt you tell me that to my face though we live in the same house  
**Seaman:** i wanted to spread the happy news all at once Molly  
**Seaman:** also I still cant move and you went into your bedroom  
**Seaman:** sue me  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** that’s AWESOME  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** FJORD IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU  
**Seaman:** thank you Jester  
**NottSoBrave:** fjord you need to respond more energetically than that  
**NottSoBrave:** you shouldnt leave a lady wanting  
**NottSoBrave:** otherwise someone could snatch her up  
**Lavender Thunder:** oh and what do you know about women?  
**NottSoBrave:** i happen to BE a WOMEN  
**NottSoBrave:** woman  
**NottSoBrave:** whatever  
**NottSoBrave:** oh also Caleb says congratulations  
**Seaman:** thank you Caleb  
**Seaman:** and thanks for the relationship advice, i think?  
**NottSoBrave:** don’t mention it  
**Seaman:** hey beau and yasha, what’re you going to do about work?  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** beaus busy right now  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** but im sure she’ll answer later!  
**Lavender Thunder:** ditto for yasha  
**Lavender Thunder:** that’s just how she do  
**NottSoBrave:** how mysterious  
**NottSoBrave:** why are they gone?  
**NottSoBrave:** is yasha a spy? is Beau a spy  
**Lavender Thunder:** yes  
**Lavender Thunder:** theyre spies

Nott looked up from her phone screen, stared at Frumpkin dead in his clear blue eyes.

“Hear that?” she said. “I _knew_ it.”

“ _Spatz_!” Caleb called from the kitchen. “Come on, your noodles are getting cold!”

“Coming!” she yelled back. She gave Frumpkin one last solemn nod, then tossed her cell onto the covers and scuttled out of the bedroom.

\--------------------------------------

Beau arrived home that night well after sunset. She shut the front door behind her as quietly as she could, but frowned and looked around suspiciously when she noticed that all the lights were still on. Then she saw the living room couch, and her gaze softened.

Jester was laid out on the cushions, fully dressed and fast asleep. There was a tray on the coffee table in front of her, piled high with pastries and sporting a now-chilly cup of hot chocolate. A note beside the tray read:

_For Beau!_

She sighed. “You little weirdo,” she said, “you didn’t have to wait for me.”

She slid her backpack onto the carpet and carefully lifted Jester into her arms, bridal-style. She had almost finiahed tucking her in when the girl stirred awake.

A pair of purple irises glowed in the darkness.

“Beau?” Jester mumbled. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, Jes,” she said. “I’m back.”

Jester’s brow furrowed slightly. “You…your face is messed up.”

Beau reached up, felt the tender skin around her bruised eye and split lip. She shrugged and gave Jester a faint smile. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I fell.”

“That’s a lie,” Jester murmured, and closed her eyes. “But it’s okay. You said you trust me, and I trust you too. You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

Beau was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. “…thanks, Jes,” she said eventually.

“I’m glad you’re home,” came the sleepy response. “I’m glad you came back to me.”

Beau scoffed. “Of course I did,” she said. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

There was no answer. After a moment, Beau pulled the blankets up to Jester’s shoulder, turned around, and went back to her room.

\--------------------------------------

And then, after that, life more-or-less returned to whatever semblance of normalcy it had once held, for most of them.

For _most_ of them.

\--------------------------------------

**TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Today | 10:22AM

**Lavender Thunder:** guysssss  
**Lavender Thunder:** whos around??!!??  
**Lavender Thunder:** im bored out of my goddamn mind  
**Lavender Thunder:** and yashas still gone  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** ughhhh sorry mollyyyy I have class now  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** and Fjord too right now  
**Lavender Thunder:** ah its arlight dear  
**Lavender Thunder:** anybody else?  
**Drunkmonk:** i hate you, so no  
**Drunkmonk:** but actually im also doing stuff right now  
**Lavender Thunder:** fuck off  
**Lavender Thunder:** nott and Caleb?  
**NottSoBrave:** calebs working at the library toady  
**NottSoBrave:** and I don’t want to hang out with you  
**Lavender Thunder:** wow alright then  
**(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:** Nott!! Apologize to Molly!!  
**NottSoBrave:** sorry  
**Lavender Thunder:** gee thanks  
**Lavender Thunder:** anyways have fun doing your stuff yall  
**Lavender Thunder:** i guess ill ,, read a book or something

Molly lowered his phone.

He was seated on his bed, wrapped up in his silk pajamas, staring out the window at the bright and bustling city landscape beyond.

This was a strange feeling. Here he was warm, and comfortable, and the sunlight gently caressed his skin with its soothing morning rays.

But today he should have been at the Moondrop. Today he should have been in the dark backstage performer’s lounge, helping the sisters with their makeup, or watching Desmond tune his instruments, or failing to stack crates as high as Yasha could, or riffing with Bo or giving Toya piggy-back-rides or pestering Ornna or chatting lazily with Kylre or learning about sound equipment from Gustav or even bemoaning the lack of proper lighting above his dresser mirror as he tried to apply his favorite glittering eyeshadow before the afternoon shows began.

Instead, he was here.

For the first time in his entire, extraordinarily short life, Mollymauk Tealeaf felt alone.

And he realized now, with rising dread, that he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnnd that's a wrap on Arc 1 of this story! Thank you guys so so much for reading so far, and sorry this update took so long! If you read All the Dreamers, you'd know I've been doing a LOT of adjusting to college and studying abroad recently! And speaking of, I'm just letting you guys know that I'll be taking a mini hiatus to work on this story, and Dreamers, and figure out the college life a bit. Don't worry, it'll probably only be a month at most, but I just wanted to warn y'all in advance! 
> 
> If you need stuff to hold you over in the meantime, check out my other stories or my tumblr [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! And, of course, know that comments and kudos keep me going, and you guys's feedback has always been spectacular and like,, 90% of the reason I'm always so excited to write more!
> 
> Love you all!! <33333


	9. Tinsel on the Awnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: tutor time, adventures in busking and the Union Square Holiday Market, living room workouts, the emotion power hour, and dumpster diving

“No, no,” said Caleb, reaching for his pencil. “You have to account for Reichden’s Law of Opposing Forces. Otherwise you will just make the lightning even worse. Here, the glyph should look like this.”

Fjord sat across from him, on a stool by the library counter. “I _knew_ there was something wrong,” he sighed, “I guess I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

Caleb hummed his agreement as he worked. “No offense meant, but I am surprised you would make this mistake. It is...Spellcasting 101, you might say. Did your teachers never show this to you before?”

“Er, no,” Fjord admitted. “But I’ve also never exactly _taken_ a magic class before, so I guess it makes sense that I’d fuck up like this.”

“You’ve…” Caleb’s hand paused over the page. “You’ve _never_ been taught this in a formal setting?”

Fjord shrugged. “Is that hard to believe? I mean, you _know_ how shitty I am at this. You’ve watched me fuck up for two weeks, now.”

“Yes," Caleb blinked, "but…to be perfectly honest, I thought you would at least know the basics. After all, Fjord, I saw you do magic that night at the Moondrop. You _have_ arcane capabilities, you cast spells that I could not even name.”

Something flickered behind Fjord's eyes, but he tamped it down quickly. “Well…yeah,” he said slowly. “But that’s, um…”

He sighed and leaned in, lowering his voice. “Caleb, I’ve never really talked about this before, not even with Jes. So, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll be discrete, alright?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “ _Ja_ , okay. Sure.”

Fjord took a deep breath. “I, um…I’ve never actually _learned_ magic before. And those spells you saw…I don’t think they were the wizardly kind—”

“—they certainly did not appear to be—”

“—right. So, what I’m saying is, I think my powers are...I didn't get 'em out of books. I just sorta…wish really hard for something to happen, and then it does. Is that, is that weird? Is that _normal_?”

Caleb was silent for a moment. Then he burst out into laughter, which understandably caught Fjord off-guard. 

“I...you know, just spilled my guts out there a bit,” he said with mild reproach. “Was there something funny about it?”

Caleb wiped at the corner of his eyes and shook his head. “ _Nein,_ no, well…maybe a little bit funny. Oh, you should have told me that in the first place! _Now_ I understand.”

He met Fjord’s bewildered gaze and smiled faintly. “You are just a sorcerer, Fjord. There is nothing wrong with that. Your abilities are inborn, and natural to you.” Then he waved his hand dismissively over their notes, and the rough sketches of arcane symbols and circles across the pages. “You do not need any of this, my friend. You just need to practice your own skills. _Mein gott_ , I cannot believe I was trying to teach magic to a _sorcerer_.”

Fjord found himself grinning as well, despite his confusion. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, uh…I didn’t realize there was somethin’ different about…uh…wait, are you sayin’ that your magic _isn’t_ coming from you?”

“Oh, of course not,” Caleb chuckled. “I channel the raw arcana that exists in this world around us, in every living thing, in every thought and idea and emotion and et cetera. That is what all this chicken-scratch is,” he added, pointing at the notes. “But _you_ get your magic from yourself. Whether it be because your ancestors were cursed, or blessed, or maybe one of them was a dragon, I don’t know, were your parents dragons, by any chance?”

Fjord’s smile faded slightly. “Uh…probably not,” he said. “I never, uh, knew them.”

Caleb’s jovial air immediately vanished. “ _Scheisse_ ,” he said, “I am sorry. That was tasteless—”

Fjord shook his head. “No, no, don’t worry about it. But, uh…just checking, are those the _only_ kinds of people who do magic? There aren’t, I dunno, there aren’t any individuals who just kind of picked it up along the way, or maybe they found something that granted them powers, or anything? It’s, it’s _great_ to know I’m a sorcerer, that’s so cool, but you know, since we’re on the subject, is there anything…else?”

“Oh, _ja_ , there are all sorts out there in the world. Warlocks, most of them, who tie themselves to unspeakable evils in exchange for a bit of power, sure.”

“Oh,” Fjord squeaked. “Uh…unspeakable evils, huh?”

Caleb shrugged. “Well, not always evil. Sometimes they’re gods, or they’re wandering spirits with nothing better to do. But I was always taught that more often than not, otherworldly patrons have otherworldly agendas that usually spell disaster. Then again, I was taught many things that today, I do not necessarily agree with.”

Caleb picked up his pencil again, and nodded to Fjord. “Now that we have established my uselessness as a magical tutor, then, perhaps we should spend the next hour on something else.”

“What?” Fjord asked, jolting out of his daze.

“What else do you need assistance with?” Caleb repeated. “Jester stopped by a few days ago asking about the Ratio Test, and your study guide says it will be on the final exam soon. Would you like to go over that?”

Fjord blinked, and then nodded quickly and reached for his math binder. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he said. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

"How do you feel, so far? Do you understand it?"

Fjord rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Uh...actually, I kind of don't. Sorry, I really haven't had time to study lately, what with all the craziness at work, and everythin' that goes into moving apartments."

“No worries, I am here to help. That is what you are, under my protest, paying me for, yes?”

“Gods, Caleb, I’m not gonna extort free labor from you. Not even if you insist.”

“I told you, it was more than enough for you advertise my services to your classmates. I am _fully booked_ for this week, Fjord! That is…truly, that is an incredible gift you have given me.”

Fjord grinned. “Don't thank me, thank reading week," he said. "But, I mean...yeah. Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Caleb chuckled softly. “You know, Jester has been sneaking envelopes of cash into my bags before she leaves from _her_ lessons as well, now. Do you…do you have anything to do with that?”

“I dunno,” Fjord said, though it sounded like he did. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

Caleb snorted. “I still haven’t figured out what rate she is paying me,” he said. “Sometimes it looks like ten cents an hour, sometimes thirty dollars. Does she _understand_ how much money is worth?”

Fjord sighed, and flipped open to his notes. “I’ve seen the size of her trust fund,” he said. “She hasn’t got a clue.”

“Well,” Caleb said, reaching for his own papers, “let us hope she never has to learn.”

\--------------------------------------

At this time of year, the Pentamarket Square was in full holiday swing. Storefronts burst with gold and silver lights, tinsel glittered along the awnings, and colorful wreaths adorned their doors. The usual wide tents of the street vendors had been replaced with wooden booths, their four walls covered in more sparkling lights, and their space heaters spilling warmth over the open counters and into the brisk winter air. Children wrapped in parkas and woolen hats ran through the cobbled plaza, and young couples window-shopped hand-in-hand. Cheery music played from a number of outdoor speakers, and the smell of hot baked goods, wisps of cinnamon, sugar, and chocolate syrup, drifted up and over the crowd.

This was the Winter Market, and it would last up until the week after New Dawn.

Nott the Brave, skipping cheerfully through the crowd at knee-height, was here to take advantage of that. Her pockets were already rather heavier than they had been this morning.

But just as she spotted a particularly promising-looking old woman with a shiny polished cane, she heard something that made her stop dead in her tracks and look around wildly.

“—ah, _you_ look like someone who’d like to know their future, how about it? No? Well then, how about _you_ , miss? Yes, I can see you’ve got something very important happening soon! What’s that? Well, you’d have to sit down for a reading to find out, eh?”

Nott immediately abandoned her search for loose wallets and jewelry and began shoving her way through, weaving around legs and ducking under shopping bags, until she arrived at a tented stall selling warm apple cider.

Next to it, sitting cross-legged on a thick, navy-blue carpet, was none other than Mollymauk Tealeaf himself. He was wearing his full makeup, glittering eyeshadow and all, and had his crimson performer’s coat on. A white cardboard sign by his knee read, _FORTUNES TOLD FOR GENEROUS TIPPERS,_ and he was shuffling a thick stack of blue-and-gold cards between his fingers as he beamed widely at passing shoppers, winked to small children, even tipped an imaginary hat to an old woman walking by.

And then he caught sight of Nott, her face poking out from behind a young couple’s shins. His eyebrows shot up, and he smirked all the way until she had finally managed to throw herself onto his carpet, the small rectangular island of peace in this sea of people.

“Well, well, well,” Molly grinned, setting his cards aside and gesturing for her to sit. “Look at what the cat dragged in! Nott the Brave, how are you, dear?”

Nott took the seat opposite him. “I’m fine, I guess, but what’s up with _you_? Why are you _here_?”

Molly shrugged. “It’s the holiday season, dear. No better time for attracting customers! Well, it’s not quite as good as Midsummer or Merryfrond’s Day, or Harvest’s Close, but it’s best you can do in the winter, eh?”

“Winter sucks,” Nott grumbled. “Aren’t you freezing, out here? Most people bundle up so much there’s nothing I can pickpocket.”

Molly snorted. “Is that why you’re here?” he asked.

Nott crossed her arms. “You can’t prove anything,” she said. “But seriously, isn’t it cold? You’re going to get sick.”

“I won’t,” he reassured her, “tieflings run hot.”

“You’re not running now. How is that supposed to help?”

Molly opened his mouth as if to respond, then paused, and sighed. “Nevermind, dear. But hey, since you’re already here, how about a reading? I’d be willing to do it free of charge, for a friend as delightful as you.”

Nott rubbed her chin. “Are we even friends? I mean, I know we hang out with the same people, I think, but the two of us have never exactly…bonded.”

Molly waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s make _this_ our bonding experience, then! Let me read your fortune.”

She responded with a suspicious glare. “This isn’t your way of buttering me up because you want to get to Caleb, is it?”

Molly lowered his hand. “Of course not!” he said. “But, er, he hasn’t mentioned me at all, has he? It’s been a couple weeks but, uh, I was just curious,” he added hastily.

“Ha! I _knew_ it.”

“Come on, Nott, you can’t blame me for just _asking_. Besides, I _am_ genuinely invested in getting to know you, now. Jester likes you plenty, and Yasha seems to have taken a shine to you, and you insult Beau just as much as I do, so really, we’re just best friends waiting to happen.”

She eyed him over carefully. Then she sighed and nodded. “Alright, alright, performer boy—”

“—mmm, not boy.”

“Performer person?”

“That’s _sort_ of better—”

“Performer fey-being?”

“...sure, alright. Yeah, let's go with that.”

Nott nodded and leaned in. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Molly deftly scooped his cards back up and began to toss them from hand to hand, effortlessly forming a gleaming bridge between his fingers. He laughed cheekily as Nott rolled her eyes at the extravagance of it all. Then he made a few more passes, flicked his wrist elegantly, and let three cards fall onto the carpet between them. They landed face-down, lined up evenly next to one another, and Nott genuinely couldn’t tell if that was dumb luck, or pure skill.

“Would you like to flip them over yourself?” he asked generously.

“Why?” she asked. “Is that part of the trick?”

Molly scoffed. “It’s not a _trick_. It’s fortune-telling.”

Nott raised her eyebrow. “ _I’ll_ be the judge of that.”

\--------------------------------------

“Hey, Beau?” Jester asked, lowering her magazine. “I know I don’t usually ask about this kind of stuff, but…shouldn’t you be looking for a _job_?”

Beau, who had been furiously doing chin-ups on a rod jammed into the doorway leading into the living room, paused. Arms raised, bare feet brushing the ground, she gave Jester a suspicious look.

“Why’re you so interested, all of a sudden?” she asked. “You’re not worried about money, are you?”

“No, no,” Jester said, and set aside her issue of _Iva’s Secrets_. “Well, okay, kind of a little bit. But I’m worried about _your_ money. What are you going to do when I move out? Are, are you going to, to find a super-rich roommate, or something?”

Beau dropped off the bar and sighed. “It’s sort of a long story, but I don’t really…I’m actually _good,_ financially speaking.”

Jester blinked. “Good? What do you mean by that?”

“I just mean…it’s not a concern. I found a way to get cash.” She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “It’s not even illegal, so don’t worry about that either.”

“You just _found_ some way to make money like that, not illegally, where you don’t have to work for it?”

“Yup.”

Jester considered this. Then she reached for her magazine and nodded. “You should write an article or something about that for Iva. That sounds just like the sort of thing that she likes to put on the cover.”

“I’m really concerned about what that rag is teaching you, Jes.”

“I’m not.”

Beau snorted. “Fair enough,” she said. Then she added, under her breath, “It wouldn’t really work for everyone, anyways.”

\--------------------------------------

“—and then _I_ told him that his fortunes aren’t right, because I’ve never even _owned_ that many swords before.”

Caleb paused in his whiteboard calculations, bit the end of his dry-erase marker, and stared at Nott. She was sitting at the edge of the kitchen table, swinging her legs off the side and peacefully decimating family-sized pack of chips.

“Are you… _aware_ of how tarot cards work?” he asked slowly.

She waved a hand dismissively, sending Xtreme BBQ flavoring scattering through the ar. “Not really. But I also wasn’t paying _too_ much attention, because while he was talking, I saw a woman passing by with some _really_ nice buttons, so I was busy trying to Mage Hand them off of her.”

“Ah,” Caleb said weakly. “I see. And did you get those buttons that you wanted?”

She beamed, wiped her hand off, and fished around in her hoodie. She produced three glittering, gold baubles the size of her fingernails.

“Got ‘em. Look, look, they’re in the shapes of flowers, I think.”

Caleb did not in fact look very closely, but his slightly-weary, mildly-amused smile was good enough for Nott.

“How’s the accountant stuff going?” she asked after the buttons had been safely stowed back into her pockets. “Are we looking good for the month?”

“More than good,” Caleb grinned, and swiveled the whiteboard around for her to see. “We are looking the best that we ever had, _spatz_ , thanks to Fjord and Jester for getting their classmates to hire me. Movie night tomorrow will go off without a hitch, I am sure. We even have money for extra pizzas! We can even go to a _bookstore_ , can you imagine?”

“I can,” Nott said happily. “I can imagine it real well. Thanks, Caleb.”

He scoffed. “Do not thank me, I am just riding on a wave of good luck and kind people.”

“No, no,” Nott shook her head. “I meant, thanks for keeping me around. And for, um, buying me stuff, and letting me live here. And for not kicking me out even though you’re rich now.”

“I am not rich, far from it,” he laughed. “But…” he added in a more somber tone, “well, of _course._ Of course. It is a pleasure and an honor that you are my friend, and I wouldn’t exchange that for anything else.”

Nott cracked a small smile. “Thanks, Caleb,” she said. “I wouldn’t, either. Here, have some chips.”

After that lull in the conversation, he went back to checking over his math, then set on memorizing the contents of their budget. But just as the thought crossed his mind that, _actually, I could just buy paper now to do this on_ , there was a loud cough from across the table. He looked up, and saw Nott eyeing him over nervously, snacks discarded at her side.

“Er…yes?” He blinked a few times. “Is everything alright?”

Nott sighed, and pulled out her phone. “That depends,” she said, and handed it over to Caleb. “That depends on whether or not you’d be willing to ask a specific purple bastard out for some more coffee.”

Caleb lowered his marker and frowned. “Er…what?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “When was the last time you spoke to Molly?” she asked. “Alone I mean, not at movie night. I know you don’t use your phone, and I _bet_ you haven’t gone out together since.”

“Well, no,” Caleb frowned, “I have not. But…do I need to?”

“Didn’t you have fun on your last coffee-not-a-date?”

“Yes? I did?”

“So don’t you want to do it again?”

Caleb hesitated. He fidgeted with his marker. “No? Er…yes. Wait, no, that’s…” He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I had fun,” he said. “But that does not mean…that does not mean I want to ask Molly to do it once more. I mean, what reason would we even have to meet up? He does not have any of my possessions, at the moment, and I do not have any of his.”

Nott stared at him incredulously. “Caleb…you don’t need an _excuse_ to see him.”

He bit his lip. “Yes, I do.”

“What? Why’s that?”

Caleb sighed, and put his forehead against the kitchen table. “I…I can’t just _ask_ him. He’s probably busy, and probably has much better things to do.”

“Now, that’s just a lie,” Nott countered. “Both of us know pretty well that he’s been bored out of his mind ever since the Moondrop shut down.”

“ _Ja_ , alright, but he would probably be offended if I asked him to coffee out of _pity_.”

“But it’s _not_ out of pity, it’s because you’re friends and you want to hang out!”

“ _Are_ we…friends?”

Nott leaned over, and prodded Caleb between the eyes. “You won’t be for long, if you keep avoiding him! Come on, it’s easy! Just pick up the phone, ask him if he’s busy. I don’t know why you’re so freaked out.”

Caleb considered this. He thought about telling the truth, telling Nott that he couldn’t do it, that he was afraid to ask, that if _he_ initiated things, then he would be acknowledging his own feelings, that he would be indulging in something he shouldn’t, that he would be making things _real_ , that he didn’t deserve this happiness, and that worst of all, he might even be betraying—

But then he thought about how much he didn’t want to say any of that. He thought about how excited Nott was for him, how supportive she had become, and really, how nervous and excited and elated _he_ felt at the prospect of seeing…

Caleb sighed, and reached for Nott’s cell phone.

“Fine, fine. But you’re going to help me compose the message, _spatz_. I…I really don’t remember how to do this sort of thing.”

Nott grinned. “Oh, I know _exactly_ what to do! I’ve been reading that magazine Jester showed me, ever since you got back from the last date."

“You’ve-wait, what?”

“ _Shhh_. Don’t worry about it. Okay now, type this out—”

\--------------------------------------

Today | 6:22PM

 **Nott TB:** good evening Mister Mollymauk  
**Nott TB:** it has been some time since we last spoke  
**Nott TB:** how are you doing?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** …  
**Molly Tealeaf:** nott what the fuck  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I just saw you today  
**Molly Tealeaf:** why are you talking like that

Molly, sprawled across his bed and back in his silk pajamas—at six in the evening, no less—watched the tiny dots appear at the bottom of his phone. He had a glass of wine in one hand, and an appropriately bewildered expression across his face.

 **Nott TB:** schmid  
**Nott TB:** *scheisse  
**Nott TB:** I am so sorry this is Caleb, actually  
**Nott TB:** sorry

Molly spat his wine out. He practically threw the glass onto the nightstand in an effort to free both his thumbs.

 **Molly Tealeaf:** CALEB  
**Molly Tealeaf:** GODS I THOUGHT THIS WAS NOTT  
**Molly Tealeaf:** CALEB???

There was a brief pause. And then the words:

 **Nott TB:** yes, caleb  
**Nott TB:** Caleb Widogast? We went on that double date once  
**Nott TB:** and we fought a really big toad together a couple weeks ago  
**Nott TB:** I think you told nott a fortune this morning, I am her roommate

Molly snorted, and shook his head.

 **Molly Tealeaf:** yes yes dear I know who you are!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was just surprised!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I didn’t think you knew how to text

Another pause.

 **Nott TB:** nott says that youre joking and also that this is a common theme in our group chats  
**Molly Tealeaf:** shes absolutely correct  
**Molly Tealeaf:** now, how have YOU been? and how can I help you?’

Molly was not too proud to admit that he waited, with baited breath, for the answer.

 **Nott TB:** oh  
**Nott TB:** actually I have been well  
**Nott TB:** and I was wondering  
**Nott TB:** if you were free any time this week?  
**Nott TB:** id like to get some coffee together, if you also would  
**Nott TB:** my treat this time

Molly felt his _soul_ burst into song.

 **Molly Tealeaf:** that sounds lovely!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I would never say no to such a gentleman  
**Molly Tealeaf:** Wednesday or Thursday works for me!  
**Nott TB:** thursday it is

Then there was a long pause, and the “…” icon appeared on the screen for almost a minute, before one last text came through.

 **Nott TB:** I have missed spending time with you  
**Nott TB:** see you then.

Then this was followed by another message.

 **Nott TB:** im back  
**Nott TB:** I hope your happy  
**Nott TB:** im deleting this conversation off my phone

Molly rolled his eyes, and waited a few more beats, just in case there was more on the way. When nothing else happened, he sighed deeply and screenshotted the entire exchange—for posterity’s sake. Then got up and waltzed out into the kitchen for more wine.

As he closed the refrigerator door, his eye caught the calendar that Fjord had hung up ten months ago. They had used it for about a week, before promptly abandoning it in favor of never knowing what day it was.

He flipped all the way to the last page, and found this coming Thursday.

_Soon._

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, but then he confesses his _love_ for her!” Jester sighed, leaning flush against the brick wall behind their building and pressing a hand to her forehead. “He tells her that no matter what, he would stay true to her _forever_ , and then she starts crying because no man has ever been that open and loving to her in her _entire_ life!”

“Uh-huh,” Beau mumbled. She was only half-listening to Jester’s account of _Guard of My Heart_ , instead directing most of her energy towards trying to open the lid of the dumpster—which had sealed itself shut with a thin layer of frozen trash slime—as fast as possible, so they could get back inside. The weather forecast had predicted heavy snowfall tonight.

“But then in the second act, her family finds out about it!” Jester continued. “And of _course_ they don’t approve, she’s a high-ranking member of the Crownsguard! And he’s only a lowly butler, but they’re _so_ in _love,_ and—”

“Uh-huh,” Beau muttered. She had almost lost her thumb to jagged ice, and was now trying to figure out a different angle of attack.

“Beau, are you even _listening_?” Jester asked, crossing her arms. “You just cut me off.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” _Maybe if she wedged a stick under the hinges, yes, that could work_ —

“Beau! Beauuuuuu, are you _sure_ you’re listening?”

“Yeah, yeah, Jester, their…families suck?”

“Oh. Oh, you _were_ paying attention! Right, okay, so, basically what happens next is that her dad forces him to a duel for her favor, and the conditions are that he has to duel a member of their family. And that sucks, because all of them are such badasses, you know? But then, oh my gosh, I didn’t even see this coming, _she’s also_ in the family! And so now it’s two lovers forced to fight, one to prove his love and one to defend hers, and…”

Beau finally gave up, and took a deep breath, and slammed her shoulder as hard as she could into the tiny gap between the top of the lid and the dumpster itself. It flew open, leaving a rank trail of festering garbage-stink through the air as it went, and Beau was so relieved that she almost immediately threw the trash bag over the edge to call it a day.

But she didn’t.

Which was fortunate, because if not for that split second of hesitation, if not for the quick pause she had afforded this errand, Beau would have completely missed the tiny black bundle huddled in the corner of the bin, draped in dirty, wet fabric, and shivering in the cold.

She dropped the garbage bag onto the pavement. She threw her face closer to take a better look, ignoring the smell.

“What’s wrong?” Jester asked, and joined her at the edge of the dumpster. “What is it?”

“Do you see that?” Beau asked. “I…I can’t really see in the dark, but…there’s something in here? I think it’s _moving_?”

Jester peered in. “Ugh, it's so gross, what are—”

 _Her_ eyes, glowing a faint purple and built for low light, immediately latched on to what Beau was talking about.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Jester breathed. “Oh my _gods,_ what should we do?”

\-------------------------------------- 

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Today | 7:09PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** heyyyyyyyyyy guys?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** uh  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** I think maybe whoever is free right now might want to come over  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** beau and i sort of found something????  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** and we need a little help  
**Lavender Thunder:** of course, I’ll come now  
**Lavender Thunder:** what kind of help?  
**NottSoBrave:** and what kind of something???  
**Seaman:** fuck, im at work Jes  
**Seaman:** is everything alright?  
**Drunkmonk:** we're fine but like  
**Drunkmonk:** just  
**Dunkmonk:** you have to come and see alright? we don’t know what the fuck to do  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “don’t worry”  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “we’re on the way”

Today | 7:14PM

 **NottSoBrave:** caleb says “help we don’t have a car”  
**DrunkMonk:** good gods  
**Lavender Thunder:** im stealing Fjord’s station wagon, i’ll get you two  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “tell Molly I said thanks”  
**Lavender Thunder:** (o^-')b  
**Lavender Thunder:** be there in a flash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back kids! I'm so excited to get going with this fic again, especially since I've had time to make some plans! Updates are gonna be more-or-less-weekly, as always, especially since I am now in the middle of midterms, and also am still working on Where All the Dreamers Go. But seriously, I have SO MUCH on the way and i CANNOT wait to get into it!! (exhibit A: what did Jester and Beau find?)
> 
> In the meantime, please consider leaving Comments and Kudos! I love reading everything y'all have to say, and it means the world to mean to know how you feel about this lil fic! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!
> 
> <33333


	10. A Technicolor Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Y'ALL REALLY WANT KIRI HUH? WELL, HERE WE ARE!!)
> 
> Welcome back! Featuring: Birdland, bad driving, midnight conversations, more midnight conversations, clothing central, an introduction to youtube and vlogging, honey and heists

“They’re asleep right now,” Jester murmured when she opened the front door. “And they smell really bad, but that’s because we found them in the trash.”

“Ah,” Molly said knowingly. “They must be one of Beau’s relatives.”

Beau glowered at him from over Jester’s shoulder. “I would kick your ass for that, Tealeaf, but we’ve got more _important_ things to deal with.”

“If she is avoiding violence,” Caleb nodded, “then it must be urgent. What _exactly_ did you find?”

Jester moved aside so they could walk in. “See for yourself,” she said. “And take your boots and coats off, all of you are covered in snow.”

They entered the living room, unsure of what to expect. They stopped short in front of the couch. Three pairs of eyes went wide.

“ _Tolle_ ,” Caleb breathed. “Is that…?”

“They’re kind of cute,” Jester murmured. “But I’m a little worried. They didn’t wake up when I put them down, or when I turned the space heater on.”

“Or when I sprayed them with air freshener,” Beau added. “And I’m not really sure how to check for a pulse on…on…whatever these are.”

Molly and Nott only stood and stared at the bundle huddled against the cushions, but Caleb crouched down to get a better look. Right there in front of him, snuggled tightly within a pile of blankets that smelled like a tropical sunset, was a tiny, ruffled, little black-feathered kenku.

It was breathing faintly. But it _was_ breathing.

He turned back toward the others. “Do you have any more heaters?” he asked quietly. “Or any more blankets?”

“I think there’s an extra quilt in my closet,” Beau nodded, and ran off to fetch it.

In the waiting silence that followed, Nott leaned over and tugged on Jester’s sleeve. “What, um, what are we going to do when they wake up?”

Jester glanced hopefully towards Caleb and Molly. “I’m not sure, yet. I was kind of wondering if you guys had any ideas?”

Molly took a seat on the coffee table and sighed. “Let’s just wait and see what they say to us,” he tried. “Then I guess we…wing it?”

Caleb snorted. “Oh, wing it,” he chuckled, and shook his head. “Good, that is funny.”

Molly blinked a few times. Then realization hit and he grinned, nodded, his horn charms jingling brightly. “Ha! I didn’t even realize, myself. Well do—”

“Look, look!” Nott hissed, cutting them off suddenly and pointing frantically at the couch. “Look, it’s _moving_.”

The bundle on the cushions quivered. It trembled. It shook slightly, and a pair of bright yellow eyes slowly peeked open.

Then they immediately snapped shut and the kenku chirped in terror, frantically trying to hide itself under the blankets.

“Wait, wait,” Jester cried, “don’t—don’t be afraid, this is just my couch!”

This was met with another scared squawk, and more flinching.

Caleb leaned forward carefully and said, as softly as he could, “We do not want to hurt you. We are…well, we _want_ to be friends.”

It seemed to react to that, and paused. “Friends?” it echoed back in a perfect imitation of Caleb’s voice.

The group exchanged surprised glances. Jester was the first to recover.

She nodded and said, gentle as could be, “Yes. And we want to help. Could you let us help you?”

Its face re-emerged. At a closer glance, it sort of looked like an enormous raven, but with a smaller beak and much larger, golden eyes set in more human-than-bird-like proportions. And as the group stared, the kenku returned with its own intense, searching gaze.

“Help you?” it echoed.

“Yes, help. We found you outside, are…are you okay?”

It considered this for a moment. “Okay?” it responded.

And then Beau rounded the corner with a tall stack of blankets in her arms. “Alright, guys, I’ve got the—”

She stopped at the entrance to the living room. She looked around in mild panic at this new development.

“Hey, Beau!” Jester called. She, on the other hand, was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Say ‘hi’ to our new friend!”

Beau carefully moved closer, not taking her eyes away from the kenku. “Uh…hi, there?”

“Hi, there?”

She dropped the blankets onto the rug. She sat down.

“Well, then…alright. Sure. Talking bird. That’s _definitely_ not the weirdest thing to happen to me today.”

“Don’t be _rude_ ,” Jester admonished, then turned to the kenku.  “Ignore her, she’s not good at being nice. What’s your name?”

It opened its beak to respond, but nothing came out. It seemed frustrated by this, trying a few more times to speak before giving up and looking frantically around the room. After a moment, its gaze fell on the coffee table, where one of Jester’s discarded magazines lay. It pointed at them meaningfully.

“Your name is Iva?” Nott gasped. “Oh my gods, are you the writer of the column?”

Molly rolled his eyes. “Obviously they want paper to write on, you little gremlin.”

“Hey! I’m a _goblin_ —”

“Hang on, hang on,” and Jester grabbed her backpack off the ground. She rummaged around, then produced a notebook and a pen.

Caleb’s eyebrow went up. “Isn’t that your chem—”

“Dooon’t worry about that.” Then Jester turned again to the kenku and added, “Feel free to write all over that, little birdy! Or, wait… _are_ you little?” She tapped her chin. “Are you a grown-up, or are you a kid?

“A kid,” came the echo.

Nott’s wary expression immediately melted. Jester’s heart had already turned to mush hours ago, but she still found room for her eyes to soften further. Even Molly was starting to look mildly sympathetic.

The kenku held up the notebook. Scrawled across a page in surprisingly tidy handwriting were the words:

_Thank you._

“Oh,” Jester squealed, brining her hands up to her cheeks, “oh, you are welcome! How old are you, what’s your name?”

“What are you?” Nott chimed in. “A girl, or a boy, or…or just a bird?”

 A few moments of silence, as the scritch-scratching of the pen dominated the conversation. Then the words:

_Four. Kiri. I am a girl._

“Aw,” Nott murmured, and Jester nodded excitedly.

“Kiri, you are four years old? That’s so wonderful!”

A happy trill answered that, Kiri seemingly brightening at the sound of her own name. She looked considerably more settled now, and had even let the nest of blankets fall apart around her. Her feathers rose and fell under the waves coming off the space heater, and her eyes glittered almost as vibrantly as Nott’s.

“What were you doing in the dumpster?” Molly asked, leaning forward. “And why were you in that alley, in the first place?”

“Do you live around here?” Jester added.

Kiri shook her head. She picked up the pen again.

_Family going west. Escaping east mountains. Father said valley-folk fighting._

Caleb nodded slowly. “There _were_ reports of skirmishes along the borders,” he muttered. “Our dear empire is not a very friendly neighbor.”

“Have you been travelling far?” Beau tried, and Kiri just shrugged.

“Where…where is your family now?” Jester asked tentatively.

Kiri lifted the pen as if she were about to write something, then paused and lowered her head. She made sad sort of hum.

“Oh, no,” Jester said. “Oh, no, no, no…are…are your momma and dad okay?”

Kiri helplessly shrugged again. Caleb felt his stomach sink.

“You don’t know where they are?” Jester asked. “How did you get separated?”

After a few moments, Kiri flipped the notebook around:

_Came to the city by accident. Lights too bright, we got lost. People outside started to chase us, so we ran to not be taken. Ran for a long time. I fell off the wall into a box, top got stuck, family could not get me out. Couldn’t risk sisters or selves. So kept going._

“No,” Nott breathed, eyes going wide.

“Oh, _no_ ,” Jester murmured, “oh, Kiri…”

_Stuck there for a while. Not their fault. Don’t want them to die for my carelessness._

In the silence that followed, Kiri closed the book and handed it back to Jester. She accepted it with a trembling hand, then turned towards the others.

“We have to get her back to her family,” she said softly. “Guys…we have to find her parents.”

Nott nodded emphatically, though Caleb’s expression did not change and Molly only looked weary.

“Do you know where they were heading?” the tiefling asked. “Do you know where to go?”

Kiri gave a trill that suggested she did not.

“How many sisters do you have?” Jester tried. “Are they older, or—”

Then there was a noise at the front door, a muffled swear and the sound of a key being fumbled into the lock. After a moment, Fjord’s voice rang out through the wood.

“Are y’all good? I’m off work now, I took the subway over since Molly stole my car. Can I come in?”

“Oh, yes!’ Jester answered. “Yes, definitely!” She turned back to Kiri and said, calmly, “hang on one second! Someone else is coming, his name is Fjord and he’s also a friend. Don’t mind his teeny tusks, he’s growing them back in.”

Then the door opened and Fjord appeared, wrapped tightly in a thick winter jacket and covered in a fine dusting of snow. His pink knitted scarf had been frozen solid, and he looked grateful for the apartment’s heavy warmth.

“So, what _was_ it that y’all found?” he asked as he shrugged his shoes off. “You sounded real frantic in the—”

He looked up, and paused. He stared at the enormous bird sitting on the living room couch.

“Oh,” he said. “Uh…hello, there?”

“Don’t mind his teeny tusks,” Kiri said.

In the bewildered silence that followed, Caleb sighed and shook his head. “I think I should make us some tea. Jester and Beau, if you do not mind…?”

“Nah, uh, go for it.”

Jester nodded distractedly, caught between delight and a sudden, sheepish guilt.

Caleb stood wearily. “Fjord?” He turned to the half-orc, and gestured at the couch. “This is Kiri. Kiri, meet Fjord. I will be back with some warm drinks."

Molly got up to follow him. “I’ll help you, dear. After all, tea’s my middle name! More or less.”

\--------------------------------------

By the time they returned with seven steaming mugs of oolong tea, Fjord had been filled in on the situation and Kiri, being more-or-less four years old, was beginning to look exhausted. Her eyes would occasionally flutter closed, and she had to ruffle her feathers and shake her head to open them back up. 

“One thing’s for sure, she should stay here tonight.” Beau said as Molly passed her the last cup. “It’s fucking cold out, and it’s probably too late to go around and ask the neighbors if they know anything.”

“You should try putting word out online,” Molly suggested. “See if anyone’s seen a family of…what was it, again?”

“Kenku,” Caleb supplied, plopping down into the nearest armchair. “Bird people. But I doubt the internet would be helpful in this case. I do not want to ask strangers about a child, and I do not think her family would be on social media searching for her. Kenku societies are not well-known, or…technologically advanced, according to what I remember. Is, er, is that true?” he added with a searching glance at Kiri.

She blinked back at him. She pecked at the mug between her feathery hands.

“I’m inclined to believe that,” Molly sighed.

“We’ll look after you!” Jester said confidently. “Don’t worry!”

“I’d be down,” Beau shrugged. “Birdseed isn’t so expensive, right? Er… _do_ you eat birdseed?”

“ _Do_ you eat birdseed?”

“I’ll take that as a maybe.”

“She can’t stay forever though, right?” Fjord asked slowly, glancing between Jester and Beau. “I mean…yeah, sure, it’s fine for now, but…you two can’t take care of her forever. Plus there’s gonna be a whole roommate-apartment-rearrange in a few weeks.”

Jester bit her lip. “I know, I know…this is just a _for now_ solution.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out by then,” Beau shrugged. “Don’t worry so much.”

Fjord did not seem entirely convinced, but he nodded, and went back to his tea.

“Maybe if Caleb makes a bunch of more money from tutoring, she could come stay with us!” Nott suggested. “I don’t have a job, so I could stay home and watch her!"

“Er…as exciting as that sounds,” Caleb said weakly, “I am not sure that is the best plan. Our house is not exactly the most conducive to raising a child. A…bird, child. And also I do not think either of us are qualified.”

“I would have to opt out of long-term bird-kid care too,” Molly nodded. “But hey, like I said, we’ll figure it out! I’ll…put something up on Craigslist just in case. I’m already looking for a roommate there, as is.”

“I am _not_ giving Kiri up to a _Craigslist_ responder!” Jester snapped.

“That website _is_ pretty sketchy,” Beau agreed. “I mean, who even _is_ Craig?”

“He’s a gnome,” Nott supplied. “They say he’s trustworthy.”

“I think we definitely should avoid _that_ plan,” Fjord sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s…just take the Mollymauk Approach, for now. We ignore the big problem, and focus on what we can solve.”

“It’s a tried and tested method,” Molly grinned. “I do it all the time.”

“Right,” Fjord nodded. “For _now_ , Kiri stays here. _For now_.”

“Great!” Jester grinned. “Oh, I am _so_ excited for you to be a part of our family!”

“Our family?”

“Yeah, sure,” Beau said. “What the hell.”

Caleb glanced around at the group assembled, and nodded. “If that is the case, then, I think perhaps Nott and I should head home. I have work tomorrow morning, and the snow will only be making the roads worse and worse.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Molly said immediately. “Here, let me drive you back. Or, Fjord, you can do it if you want…?”

The half-orc shook his head, instead turned Jester and Beau. “Actually, uh, if it’s alright, could I stay the night? I can help make sure Kiri’s alright. I, uh, I feel a bit bad for coming so late.”

“I don’t really think we need _help,_ ” Beau muttered, “but feel free, yeah.”

Jester had an eyebrow raised, but she didn’t argue. “I’m definitely not going to say no to your company, silly.”

Fjord cracked a smile. “Great,” he said, and started patting down his pockets. “In that case, where are…”

Molly held up a hand, a ring of keys jingled in his grasp. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve got them.”

Fjord sighed. “You know, I’m not even surprised.”

Nott, Caleb, and Molly all stood, giving one last glance to the ever-sleepier Kiri.

“It was nice to meet you,” Caleb said softly. “We will see you at some point, I am sure.”

“Hey, you could come to movie night!” Nott said excitedly. “You’d love it, I bet!” She glanced hopefully at the rest of the group. “Wouldn’t that be cool, guys?”

Jester nodded immediately. “That would be _awesome!_ And Nott’s right, Kiri you’d have so much fun!”

“So much fun!”

“Exactly!” Nott beamed. “Please, Caleb?”

He gave her an amused smile. “Er…sure,” he said. “ _Ja_ , that sounds fine.”

“Well then,” Molly said, “in that case, I suppose I will see you tomorrow, small bird.”

Aforementioned avian gave him a tired nod with half-closed eyes.

“Alright, alright, it’s bedtime for Kiri now,” Nott said decisively. “Tomorrow we’ll talk more! Welcome to the gang, Kiri! We’re going to be the best of friends.”

“The best of friends,” she agreed sleepily. “Welcome to the gang.”

Caleb nodded to the rest. “See all of you tomorrow, then. I will…buy birdseed, I suppose.”

“Get the kind with peanuts, that’s the good shit,” Beau said.

There was a moment where they all processed the implications of that statement. Then Beau’s expression hardened, and they all immediately moved on.

“Good night, dears.”

“ _Gute nacht._ ”

“See you!”

And with that, they collected their coats and scarves, slipped on their boots, and made their way out of the apartment and into the night.

\--------------------------------------

“Mollymauk, that was a red light.”

“What? Oh, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Nott’s shrill voice rang out from the back: “You weren’t _what_?”

The station wagon, a dark blue monstrosity that Fjord had acquired at some point in the distant past, rattled on ominously as Molly swerved through the streets. Its windshield wipers frantically cleared snow from the front of the vehicle, and its tires ground hard against the slowly-forming ice. Caleb was in the front passenger’s seat, safely buckled in and looking only mildly terrified. Nott, by herself at the back, being flung around the faded leather seats, had already begun to text Jester her last will and testament.

Molly seemed perfectly at ease.

“Don’t worry so much, I’m an _excellent_ driver,” he grinned, and tilted the wheel so that the car suddenly jerked left. “I’ve been driving for…for…well, for as long as I can remember.”

“That is a strange way to phrase it,” Caleb remarked. “Have you been driving since you were an infant, then?”

Molly snorted. “Nobody remembers when they were a baby, that’s just science. Try again, smart one.”

Caleb managed to crack a smile at that, though it immediately faded when they barreled through a crosswalk without stopping to check for pedestrians. He settled for sighing, and tightening his grip on the door handle. Maybe he should prep a Mage Armor, just in—

“How long do you think that little bird is going to last with us?” Molly asked. “A few days, maybe?”

Nott frowned. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” she demanded. “Kiri is going to stay as long as she needs to. Until we figure out what to do with her."

“Yeah, yeah,” Molly sighed, “I know that’s the _plan_ , but do you really expect it to happen like that? I mean, I love Jester and I suppose Beau is alright, but they certainly don’t know how to raise a child. None of us do. What…what are you even supposed to feed her? Does she need to go to school? What kind of clothes do you put on a _bird_?”

“Jester can knit,” Nott countered. “Not…not super-well, but I’m sure she could do it. And school is for losers.”

“I went to school,” Caleb said absent-mindedly.

“Oh, sorry—”

“No, no, it is alright. I was quite a loser.”

Molly laughed, and pulled the car up against the curb outside Caleb’s apartment. The tires made a suspiciously agonizing groan as they scraped against the concrete, but otherwise didn’t seem to take any damage.

“You don’t have to take that question seriously,” he shrugged. “I was just thinking out loud. Now,” he added with a grin, “get out of my car.”

“This is Fjord’s car,” Nott said, sticking her tongue out. “Also, you shouldn’t be allowed to drive.”

“Do not be so rude,” Caleb chastised, though his tone suggested that he might be inclined to agree. “Mollymauk was kind enough to take us home, and that is already quite good.”

“Anything for you, Mister Caleb,” Molly chuckled. “Though next time, I wouldn’t mind if you decided to keep a certain little green menace at home.”

Nott glared at him through the rear-view mirror, unbuckled her seatbelt, and was out of the car in a flash. Caleb followed quickly, but just as he was about to open the door, he turned and glanced back at Molly with a faint smile. 

“I do mean it, Mister Mollymauk. Thank you.”

Molly fought to keep a neutral expression. “Of course,” he nodded. See you tomorrow for movies?”

“And Thursday for some coffee,” Caleb added softly. “Er…g _ute Nacht_.”

And with that, he nudged the door shut, and vanished into the night with Nott at his side.

Molly put the car back into drive. He flipped the windshield wipers back on, and headed home with the snow twirling down onto the streets around him.

\--------------------------------------

Jester flopped onto the mattress and hummed softly to herself as she waited for Fjord to finish getting ready for the night. He had spent the last few hours standing awkwardly off to the side, watching Jester and Beau convince Kiri to take a bath; watching them figure out that cereal and day-old fruit were acceptable foods for four-year-old kenkus; watching them butcher a t-shirt’s sleeves to fit a pair of wings; then finally watching them summarize _Tusk Love_ without the nasty bits to try and lull her to sleep.

Now it was late, and Beau was passed out on the couch, Kiri securely tucked into her bed.

Fjord glanced at his reflection in Jester’s mirror and ran a hand through his hair.

“You don’t have to try and be handsome tonight, Oskar,” Jester supplied helpfully. “I’m way too tired to have sex after all of that.”

He immediately spluttered, spun around blushing furiously. “I-I wasn’t—Jes, that’s not why I asked to stay the night!”

Jester sat up, crossed her hands over her stomach. “Oh, well, in that case, what’s up?”

Fjord sighed and rested his elbows in his knees, chin in his palms. “I, uh, actually, I just wanted to…talk.”

“Talk?” She cocked her head to one side. “What about?”

Fjord sighed again, rubbed his temples. “Ugh, it’s…I don’t, I mean…I’m really not sure how to _say_ this…right.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Say what, Fjord?”

He hesitated, which only made her expression even more concerned. “Fjord?” she prompted gently. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know.” Then he took a deep breath and asked:

“Jester? Do you really want to move in together?”

She blinked. She leaned forward, a puzzled smile across her face. “Um…of course?” she said. “What kind of question is that, silly? What…do you think that I _don’t_?”

He swiftly backpedaled. “No, no! I…I know you _do_ , I _knew_ you did, it’s just…I dunno, I feel like maybe I’m the only one…taking it seriously? I mean, I know you’re busy, gods, I feel like a jerk even bringing it up, but…I’ve sort of been doing all the paperwork, and getting the furniture together, and fixin’ up the rooms by myself? And I kind of don’t…like…I’m afraid you’re not doing anything because you don’t want to actually live together? Oh, _gods_ , that sounded so bad, that’s not what I mean, you’ve got a _ton_ on your plate, I mean—”

“Fjord,” she said gently. “It’s okay. Just finish the thought.”

He exhaled slowly, and nodded. “It’s just…there’s _that_ , and also…a few things have happened lately that make me a little worried about the future. I’ve, uh, I’ve learned a bit more about my magic, I think, and I’m not entirely sure what to do about it. And…I’ve also thought a bit about what _you_ told me, about the Traveler and how he’s given you powers, and I’m not really sure what _that_ means either. And then there’s…there’s other things, too.”

“Other things?”

“…yeah. Like, findin’ Kiri, and what we’re gonna _do_ with her. I mean, I know I said it before, but you really _do_ understand that we _can’t_  keep her around forever, right? We’re both crazy busy, and, and not ready for that kind of _responsibility_.”

Jester leaned back against the headboard. She stared at the mattress. “Yeah…yeah, I _know_ ,” she murmured.  
“But it’s so _sad_ what happened to her, Fjord! I just want to keep helping her, forever. And, and isn’t it a little exciting to be able to help someone and to take care of someone who needs you?” She looked up hopefully. “It makes me feel really good, like I’m a good person that can make a difference! And that makes me kind of super-happy.”

“Jester?”

“Yes?”

“…do you want kids?”

There was a very long pause.

“… _maybe_?”

Fjord threw his hands up into the air. “That’s what I mean,” he sighed. “There’s…there’s so much stuff that we really haven’t talked about. And so many things that I still don’t know. And this…this moving in thing, I’m really happy we’re doing it, and I, I’m thrilled that you’re willing to take this step with me, but it’s a _huge_ step. What if…what if we’re not ready? What if some…what if something comes along to ruin it for us?”

“Are you…worried that the Traveler isn’t going to like us moving in?”

He shrugged helplessly. “I dunno. And I dunno if the Traveler is the only one who’s got a stake in this.”

Jester was quiet for a moment. Then she gestured to the empty space on the bed next to her, and gave Fjord a meaningful look.

He came over, sat down. She gently guided him down until his cheek was lying against her thigh.

She put a hand in his hair, and sighed.

“I love you, Fjord.”

“I love you too, Jes.”

She nodded, and started stroking his hair gently. “You know…” she murmured, “you know…sometimes, things happen. Sometimes you make a bad choice. _I_ made a bad choice once, and had to leave my home, remember? But then I met you. And then I met Beau, and Yasha, and Molly, and Caleb and Nott. And I think, even though it hurt when it happened, and even though I’m still sad that I can’t go back and visit my Momma, I think it was worth it.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, Fjord. And I don’t want you to be sad, but I think that maybe…maybe even if it’s not the best choice, we should still try to do this thing together. Because…because in the end, no matter what happens, I think it will be worth it.”

Fjord felt her lean down, and kiss the top of his head. A hard knot, stuck deep in his chest for the last few days, began to unwind.

He smiled faintly. “I think it’ll be worth it too, Jes.”

“I’ll prove to you that I mean it,” she said softly. “I’m sorry you had to be worried that I wasn’t serious about this.”

He quickly shook his head. “No, no, I…I was just gettin’ into my own head, there, I didn’t—”

She shushed him gently. “I’ll _prove_ it,” she insisted. “I haven’t done as much for the apartment—”

“—I mean—”

“—it’s _true._ I…I didn’t realize, but you’re really it’s true, Fjord. I _should_ be helping you. What’s something that you haven’t finished yet that I can do?”

He considered this for a moment. “I…I _guess_ we still need to paint the bedroom?”

She grinned widely at that. “Oh, _painting_? Oh, I can do _that_! What color?”

A faint smile crept across Fjord’s face. “You’re the expert, Jes. What color do _you_ want?”

She brought her hands to her face and squealed. “Oh my _gosh_ , _any_ color?”

“Er…hang on, will I regret this decision?”

Jester laughed. “Do you trust me, Oskar?”

He chuckled as well. “Of course I do, Guinevere.”

“You’re going to love it, I promise you, oh I know _exactly_ what to do!”

Fjord reached up a hand, and she took it. He tilted his head to meet her gaze.

“I’d love whatever you painted, Jes. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

She leaned down. “I’m happy you think that.”

After she pulled back, they lay there in the warm silence for a few soft moments. Then Fjord glanced at the clock and swore.

“Gods, we’ve got _classes_ tomorrow, don’t we?”

“Actually, I’ve got a final exam.”

“You _what_?”

Jester grinned.  “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’ve got this. But I think _maybe_ we should go to bed.”

“Yeah, I _think_ that’s a good idea.”

He got up, waited for Jester to pull the blankets over herself and get comfortable before he slipped underneath as well.

He leaned in for one last kiss. And, giggling, she obliged.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 12:03AM

Molly Tealeaf sent a photo  
Molly Tealeaf sent a photo  
Molly Tealeaf sent a photo

 **Molly Tealeaf:** let it be known  
**Molly Tealeaf:** that on this day, the 7th of duscar  
**Molly Tealeaf:** YOU texted ME first, asking ME to get coffee with YOU  
**Molly Tealeaf:** PROVED by these screenshots  
**Molly Tealeaf:** look at that initiative! youre blowing me away, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** admittedly you did it through Nott  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and technically I guess it happened yesterday now  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but it still happened!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and it’s the thought that counts  
**Molly Tealeaf:** gods im only just realizing now how creepy this is  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I hope you don’t mind oh jeez  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but hey, at least you’ll never read this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive gotten so used to using this chat as a weird sort of diary  
**Molly Tealeaf:** plus this was such a rare moment, I couldn’t resist!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways, thank you for listening so well as always  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and feel free to ask me to steal fjord’s car whenever you need  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night, dear, and sleep tight  
**Molly Tealeaf:** don’t let the goblins bite! 

\--------------------------------------

It was Wednesday morning, and Beau, Nott, and Kiri stood at the mouth of Woolbridge Street, one of the biggest shopping districts in the city. Strings of colorful fabric and blinking lights hung across the sky, and dozens and dozens of people were out and about this morning, likely getting a head-start on holiday shopping. These stores weren’t known for being as fancy as the Tri-Spires’ various boutiques, or as renowned as the Pentamarket’s, but they were definitely cheaper, way more entertaining, and most of the owners here were willing to adjust their clothing for the…less conventional body-types that lurked on the outskirts of society. It was here that Nott had once gotten a pair of gloves made to mimic human hands, for instance, with the perks of no questions asked.

“Sooo,” Beau said, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of choices, “where…uh…where do you think we should start?”

From somewhere around her left knee, Nott spoke up. “I think I remember one place with a blue door that was for kids…maybe?” Then she paused. “Actually, it might’ve just been for gnomes and halflings. I don’t know, the whole time I was here I was mostly just sort of panicking.”

“Just sort of panicking,” came the echo from Beau’s right knee. “The whole time,” Kiri added emphatically.

Beau sighed, and rubbed her face. “Okay, okay, we can just try ‘em all. One is _bound_ to have clothes that’ll work.”

“It probably won’t be too hard,” Nott agreed, trying to be optimistic. “Jester gave us plenty of money, we just have to find stuff that Kiri likes!”

“That Kiri likes!”

Beau nodded. She squeezed Nott’s oddly-textured grip with one hand, and Kiri’s thin, claw-like grasp with the other. “Alright, gang,” she said. “Let’s…fuckin’ do some shopping.”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb glanced at Frumpkin, who was staring back at him expectantly from atop the refrigerator.

“Do _you_ have any advice for me?” he asked.

The cat meowed, which was not unexpected.

He set his mop aside and took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs. “My fortunes are turning, Frumpkin,” he sighed. “Nott and I have more money than we know what to do with. I have so much paper, I could make a thousand little cranes and not feel guilty. We even tried that new kind of food that has no meat in it! Which Nott absolutely hated, though in retrospect I suppose I should have thought of that in advance.”

Then Caleb put his forehead against the table. “I also have friends now, Frumpkin. Friends that I care deeply about. I would do anything to see them happy. And…and there is one of them who, who keeps trying to talk to me, and be nice to me, and spend time with me. And just the other day, I reciprocated. And it felt _good_. And then it felt so, so wrong.”

Caleb peeked one eye up at his cat. “Now…now I don’t want to lose these people,” he said quietly. “Since meeting them, since meeting Nott, really, I have not thought about my old goals. I _cannot_. But…but that is wrong. Am I not betraying my parents? Am I not betraying everything I _used_ to love, in favor of those I love now? What…what am I supposed to do?”

Frumpkin meowed again.

Caleb scoffed. “I am sure they would want me to be happy too,” he muttered darkly. “But I also wanted _them_ to be happy. And they were, until I ruined it. Now, with this…this new family, I do not think I _deserve_ to be happy.”

Frumpkin blinked those large golden eyes, and Caleb hesitated.

“But—”

Frumpkin meowed again. Caleb looked down, and considered this for a moment.

“I…I suppose you are right,” he murmured quietly. “I suppose they do.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 4:17PM

Jester sent a photo 

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** ISNT SHE SO ADORABLE  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** LOOK AT THAT LITTLE DRESS, AND THAT LITTLE GREEN CAPE?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** OH ITS PRECIOUS  
**Drunkmonk:** oh yeah I think we did pretty good  
**NottSoBrave:** we did AMAZING  
**Lavender Thunder:** oh yes very cute  
**Seaman:** nice job gals  
**NottSoBrave:** gals  
**Seaman:** is there something wrong with my word choice nott?  
**NottSoBrave:** nott at all  
**Seaman:** oh great  
**Seaman:** and also Jes, how’d your exam go?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** oh it was totally good!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** im a math master thanks to Caleb  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** Nott tell Caleb that he’s the best  
**NottSoBrave:** I will let him know 

\--------------------------------------

Mollymauk, illuminated in the darkness by his computer screen, glanced up from the living room sofa as Fjord walked in with a frown.

“Molly?” the half-orc said. “Why’re you still in your pajamas?”

Molly tugged his earbuds out and raised an eyebrow. “They’re comfortable, dear. And perfect for lounging.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Getting ready? For what?”

Fjord took a seat on the armrest and gestured to the windows. A technicolor sunset splashed across the sky, leaving trails of bright pink, fading yellow, and the faintest hints of purple hanging over the city.

“We’re heading over to Caleb’s in an hour,” he said. “Aren’t you usually on makeup at this point?”

Molly swore, immediately pushed his laptop onto the couch cushion beside him. “Gods, I completely lost track of time!” he groaned, and headed for his bedroom with a curious Fjord at his heels. “I just got so absorbed by these videos! They’re ridiculously addicting.”

“Videos?” Fjord echoed. “What sort of videos?”

Mollymauk sat down at his bureau and began amassing a series of colorful bottles and tiny brushes.

“They were mostly makeup tutorials,” he said. “A few on fashion too, actually.”

“ _Tutorials_?” Now Fjord had a huge grin creeping across his face. “What, the great Mollymauk Tealeaf needs _advice_?”

Molly scoffed, and opened up a little jar of…of something. “You wound me,” he said indignantly, “I do _not_ need advice. I was watching those videos and critiquing them. Most of those people couldn’t apply eyeliner to save their lives. And most of the information is, is completely useless! I mean, I suppose if you’re a human or an elf it’s alright, but there’s _nothing_ for the rest of us! Those people wouldn’t last a day at the Moondrop. One look at Bosun, or me, or, hah! One look at Kylre, and they would’ve dropped dead.”

“Statistically speaking, I suppose so,” Fjord muttered, and Molly shot him a glare.

“I’m just saying,” the tiefling sighed, “I feel awful for the colorful little teenagers looking for advice online, and not being able to find a lick of it.”

Fjord leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “So why don’t _you_ make one?” he asked. “You love talking, and being showy, and you know plenty about makeup and stuff.”

Molly laughed. “Sure, dear, but I don’t know a thing about, about recording, and uploading videos or whatever. It took me long enough to work out how to use that laptop, gods, and I never want to ask Beau for help again.”

“So ask Jester,” Fjord said. “She knows plenty, I’m sure she’d help.”

Molly hesitated, lowered his…brush, or something, Fjord wasn’t sure. “Do you really think she’d help me?” he asked.

“Yeah, Mol, of course! Jester loves this kind of thing. She has her hands full with, with classes and the big move and a bird-kid, right now, but she’d definitely get you started.”

Molly considered this for a moment. He glanced into the mirror, and stared at his reflection. “I…well, I’d need…hmm.”

Then he picked his brush up again. and leaned forwards.

“I’ll think about it,” he said slowly. “But you know, Fjord Tough, I think you might have just earned yourself some producer credits.”

Fjord blinked. “Uh…is that a good thing?” he asked.

Molly grinned. “It’s great. And if you decide to guest star when I need a half-orc model, I’ll be sure to give you, hmmm, 12% of the profits.”

Fjord stood there in silence for a few beats, before sighing and throwing his arms up into the air. “Sure, I guess?” he tried. “Uh, anyways, I’m gonna go look over my notes for a bit. I’ll just…er…see you later, then?”

Molly waved a hand lazily behind him as Fjord left. “Call me when we’re leaving,” he said. “I need to finish this, and get a few things together.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Today | 6:49PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** whooooooooos excited for moooovies??!!!!!  
**Lavender Thunder:** im pretty excited  
**NottSoBrave:** IM SO EXCITED  
**NottSoBrave:** is kiri coming??  
**Seaman:** Beau is trying to convince her to get into the car right now  
**Seaman:** it sounds like she’s almost there  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** SHES IN!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** WE’RE COMIN 

\--------------------------------------

 “Okay!” Jester declared, plopping down onto Caleb’s tattered sofa with Kiri in her lap. “Because we have a child present, watching _Tusk Love_ again is completely out of the question.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Beau breathed, and set a twelve-pack of soda cans onto the coffee table. “I swear, if I have to see Guinevere gush over Oskar one more time, I’m going to literally die. Yasha isn’t even here to fuckin’ distract me from their godawful dialogue.”

As Jester slapped a hand to her chest and gaped in horror and astonishment, Molly shook his head and reached for a soda. “I miss her too, dear, but that sort of thing is uncalled for, don’t you think?”

“It’s a modern masterpiece,” Nott agreed. She was perched on the back of the armchair, enjoying this moment of being tall.

“It’s _alright_ ,” Fjord shrugged, and collapsed onto the couch next to Jester. “There are definitely worse movies.”

“Oh yeah?” Beau asked. “Name one.”

“ _Feathered Leather_.”

“…okay, yeah, alright.”

“ _Anyways_ ,” Jester said, waving her hand to call their attention, “I brought a bunch of different movies to try out! I found them in the kids section at the library, and I figured we could choose between them.”

“Oh, _Jester,_ ” Beau groaned, “we have to watch a _kid’s_ movie?”

“We have to watch a _kid’s_ movie?” Kiri echoed.

Molly grinned. “See, the bird has the right idea. And besides, I’m sure she could handle a _bit_ of mature content.”

Said bird nodded. “She could handle a _bit_.” 

“No way,” Jester said firmly. “I’m not risking the innocence of this precious angel. At least, not yet. And besides, some of these movies seem really interesting! There’s one about raccoons, or one about a crazy break-in heist, and one about some kids that go to a jungle, I think?”

Nott glanced over her shoulder, and pointed to a DVD case with a faint honeycomb pattern on it. “What about this one?” she asked. “I like the way it looks.”

“What’s the old saying?” Molly quipped, “don’t judge a movie by its cover?”

Nott stuck her tongue out, and Jester laughed. “I think it’s okay to judge just this once! Caleb, it’s your house, want to do the honors?”

“ _Ja,_ of course.”

As the television screen began to fizzle and the DVD player began to whirr, Caleb returned to his spot on the couch and the others dove into the pizzas and snacks. Beau had already opened a can of beer, was clinking it against Fjord’s as Jester made a face between them.

Then he felt a finger poke him in the shoulder. He turned to see Molly holding a paper plate with a slice of pepperoni pizza. He wore a contented grin, and a raised eyebrow as he gestured for Caleb to take it. “You’ve got to eat too, right?” he said. “Here you are, dear.”

Caleb smiled back faintly, and reached out to take it. In the low light, he couldn’t see the faint blush across Molly’s cheeks, nor the way those pupil-less eyes hid a gaze flickering back and forth with nervousness.

”Thank you,” he murmured. “You didn't need to, but thank you.”

Molly snorted, waved a hand around dismissively. “Of course, I—”

“Stop _talking_ so much!” Beau hissed from Caleb’s left. “This is actually really good so far.”

Nott had a worried expression across her face. “Should these bears be swearing so much?” she asked. “Is that okay for Kiri to watch?”

“I…uh…I think it should be fine,” Jester said distractedly. “And it’s really it’s only _mild_ swears so far.”

“He’s a total asshole,” Kiri piped up in a voice that sounded like an old-timey mobster’s, “but he’s really good at his work.”

Molly and Caleb exchanged glances. Both of them chuckled softly, and after another quick moment, another short breath where their eyes met, and continued to meet, they looked away.

“Guys, I’m calling it right now,” Beau muttered. “If there’s a sequel to this movie, we’re watching it next time.”

“What was this called again?” Fjord asked. “Honey, something?”

“Something like that,” Jester nodded. “I don’t remember, I’m watching—oooh, look at that! Is that a _panda_?”

“That’s the dumbest looking thing I’ve ever seen,” Nott said. “It’s not even scary.”

“It’s not even scary,” Kiri agreed.

Fjord grinned at Caleb and Molly. “I guess I’ll never find out,” he said. “We’ve lost them all to a kid’s movie about bears.”

“Gods above, the panda just stabbed someone,” Molly breathed, completely ignoring him. “Holy shit, was this _really_ in the children’s section?”

“You know, I am not so sure anymore,” Jester said, and reached for more popcorn.

He nodded slowly. “I think this might be my new favorite film.”

Caleb gave Fjord a small smile. “Molly as well, now. But, I suppose…if you cannot beat them, join them?”

Fjord snorted. “And we’ve all been friends long enough to know that there’s no beatin’ them, yeah?”

Caleb’s grin widened. “ _Ja_ , definitely,” he said. “But you know, I would not have it any other way.”

And with that, they turned back towards the movie, joined the rest in cheering as the bears—and strangely, one honey badger—barreled through a city plaza and started terrorizing a crowd of people. And the TV screen, flickering on in the restful darkness, washed over them all with its soft and soothing light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so so much for reading! You can expect the next update next week-ish, depending mostly on tests, but I'm super excited to get it out and for you guys to see what's coming!
> 
> In the meantime, please consider leaving Comments and Kudos! I love reading everything y'all have to say, and it means the world to mean to know how you feel about this lil fic! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!
> 
> <33333


	11. What’s More Important?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: coffee being had, a visit to the police station, revelations about a certain someone, solutions from the wizard, and I finally begin to justify the beauyasha tag on this damn fic.
> 
> (Also! I just wanted to let you know that I touch a bit on a theme of which I am not anywhere near an expert. I hope that I handled it respectfully, and I will absolutely take feedback/advice on whether or not that is true. And, of course, thank you so so much for reading!!)

Caleb rubbed his chin and studied his expression in the bathroom mirror. The drugstore razors had done their job well, and he even felt a little proud of himself. For a frustratingly long time, shaving had been one of those small tasks that was beyond doing. Now, thanks to Yasha and her five-foot greatsword, the first dent had been made, and Caleb had so far managed the upkeep just fine. He made a mental note to thank her, whenever she resurfaced again.

He ran one more finger across his smooth skin, then nodded sternly and turned around. Through the bathroom door was his and Nott’s shared bedroom, where a turtleneck and pair of jeans lay in a heap on the bed. A significantly larger heap of hoodies, sweatpants, and the occasional t-shirt spilled out of his closet. Caleb would deal with that, later, after coming back from his coffee…meetup.

He briefly wondered if Molly was already on the way, if he was just as nervous and excited. And that thought alone, though frustratingly unbidden, was enough to make Caleb smile.

\--------------------------------------

“Are _you_ looking for a bird?” Beau demanded. “Or have you seen a bunch of birds, or have you seen anybody saying that they’ve seen a bunch of birds?”

“Or do you know anybody who’d want to adopt a bird?” Jester added. “A really cute one?”

“Or do you know where to go to _learn_ about taking care of a bird?” Nott chimed in.

The older man cowering before them, cane clutched close to his chest and looking extremely terrified, shook his head rapidly. “I d-don’t know anything!” he cried. “I don’t—I don’t even know what you’re talking about! Bird, what bird?”

“This bird,” Jester said helpfully, and moved aside to reveal Kiri, waving at him nervously with one of her wings.

“AH!” He screamed, understandably, at the introduction of this three-foot, humanoid raven. Kiri stopped waving and ducked back behind Jester’s legs.

Nott shook her head. “He’s useless. Let’s just keep going.”

Beau pulled her phone out. “I figured it was worth a shot,” she sighed. “Here, we’ve got to turn left at the next street.”

“Thank you anyways!” Jester called to the man as they began walking away. “It was not helpful at all, but thanks!”

\--------------------------------------

Molly inhaled deeply, and stared into the mirror. His favorite pair of high-waisted jeans had been scavenged from the closet, and an appropriate burgundy sweater now hung over the back of his chair. Makeup was set, and his shoes were selected, and now all he _really_ had to do was stop psyching himself out.

Why was he so worried? His heart was beating so fast it threatened to shatter his ribcage, and he couldn’t seem to make his hands stay still. His chest ached, and his brain felt like mush, and he couldn’t figure out what to do about it.

He tried exhaling slowly, and shook his head.

What was wrong with him? He’d been on hundreds of dates before, hell, Fjord had once held an intervention because of it. And this was nothing new, nothing different, for the gods’ sake, he’d _already_ gone on a date with Caleb once! So what, if it had been a while since they were last alone together? So what, if Caleb had initiated this time? So what, if that must mean he’s interested too? So what, if Molly was terrified of messing this up, if he was too nervous to function, if all he could think about was the fact that with one misstep, one question to many, one sentence to bold,  he unquestionably end up scaring Caleb away and ruining their friendship and of course, he would never, _ever_ be able to find love like this ag—

Molly sighed. He glared at his expression, and tried counting to ten.

\--------------------------------------

“Excuse me? Um…excuse me? We were told to come see you?”

Jester rapped her knuckles lightly against the doorframe of the small office they had been led to, and poked her head inside. There was a woman sitting in there, behind an old and cluttered wooden desk, facing a small couch with a whirring heater to its left. She had short brown hair, and a weathered complexion, and a hard expression.

She wore a leather jacket, with a badge around her neck. And as she looked up, at the exact same time that Jester said, “Hey! You’re—”

Detective-Sergeant Norda groaned loudly, and hit her head against her palm. “Oh, gods, _you_ again? What, once wasn’t enough?”

Beau appeared in the doorway as well, trailed by Nott and Kiri. After a second more of sighing, Norda begrudgingly waved them in. As she motioned for them all to sit, she leaned back in her old creaking chair and nodded, “Alright, out with it. Why are you here?”

Beau plopped down onto the armrest of the couch. “It’s nice to see you too,” she shrugged. “And we came to see if you’ve heard anything about this.”

She pointed to Kiri. The little kenku, again, waved nervously.

Norda stared. Then she stared some more.

“Is that a giant _bird_?” she asked eventually.

“Her name is Kiri,” Nott said. “She’s four years old.”

“Is that, er _, old_ , for a bird?”

“A kid,” Kiri said, in Jester’s voice. “That’s so wonderful.”

Norda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine, fine, alright. And what was it that you needed from me?”

“We’re looking for her parents,” Beau explained. “They got separated from her two nights ago, and we haven’t been able to find out anything out about where they are, or where they were headed.”

“We wanted to know if you’ve heard anything about a bunch of bird-people,” Jester finished.

“I…see.” Norda turned to the large computer monitor at the edge of her desk, a clunky old monstrosity that looked like it had seen better days—namely, better days from thirty years ago.

“Hang on a second,” she said, and started to shake the mouse. “I’ll check for you all. But, well, don’t hold your breath.”

“Don’t hold my breath?” Nott muttered. “Why, what does that mean?"

“Just wait,” Norda repeated. “I’ll explain in a moment, if I have to.”

\-------------------------------------- 

The little gold bell chimed brightly as Mollymauk burst through the door of the Candleglow Café, frosty air swirling along the bottom of his long winter jacket, a couple loose snowflakes drifting in after him. He gave a cursory glance around and immediately spotted Caleb sitting on his right, beside the wide glass windows with two steaming, apple-green ceramic mugs set out on the table before him.

“Hey, Mister Caleb!” He smiled, and headed over. “Sorry to keep you waiting, subways are a bitch.”

Caleb looked up, and his stoic gaze softened. “Mister Mollymauk, _hallo._ No worries, I have not been here long.”

Molly started to remove his coat. “This is the same table as last time, isn’t it?” he asked. “Didn’t feel like changing things up?”

“I liked the view before,” Caleb shrugged. “There was no need.”

Molly felt his heartbeat skyrocket, felt his mind leap to a hundred conclusions and trip all over itself. He forced his pleasant expression to remain so, and calmly sat down. “I like being able to see the streets too,” he grinned. Then he pointed to the cups and asked, “Are one of those for me?”

Caleb cracked a smile at that, and slid a mug towards him. Faint wisps of heat trailed up from inside, accompanied by a peak of whipped cream that had been generously drizzled with caramel.

It smelled _incredible_.

“Apparently this is a ‘gingerbread cappuccino,’ whatever that means,” Caleb said. “I, uh, I was not actually sure what to order. But I remembered you liked sugary things, and this was today’s special, so…”

Molly lifted the mug to his lips. Warmth and sweetness immediately flooded his mouth, settled like a soft blanket around his soul. A cheesy grin spread across his face. “This is _fantastic_ , dear.”

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief and took a sip of his own. It left a thin moustache of foam on his upper-lip that Molly found delightfully endearing. He elected not to point it out.  

“So, it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, huh?” he said instead, leaning over the table. “ _Ages_.”

“Indeed,” Caleb agreed. “I apologize for not reaching out sooner. I, ah, I meant to, but…things have been busy.”

Molly waved a hand dismissively. “We can catch up now. What’s been going on in _your_ life?”

“Well,” Caleb smiled, and took another sip. “Fjord and Jester had some of their friends from school reach out to me for tutoring, and I have been able to get a bit of business doing that. Actually, my library job pales in comparison. Tutoring pays much more than sorting books, I am afraid.”

“Really? Do you think you’ll keep doing that, then?”

Caleb considered this. “You know,” he said, “I am not sure. I enjoy the quiet of it, and I like the people there, but…and do not think lowly of me for this, but I also rather like having money.”

Molly snorted. “Yes, I’ve heard it’s nice. I’ve personally never understood the hype, but when rent comes around…”

“It is a _very_ good thing to have indeed.”

They both raised their drinks. They drank.

“Speaking of rent,” Caleb said, foam moustache re-applied, “how is your hunt for a roommate going? The big move is happening soon, _ja_?”

“Yeah, two weeks. Fjord’s losing his mind trying to get everything sorted, and apparently their new bed was lost in transit and hasn’t arrived at the apartment yet. Which is, of course, delightfully hilarious. But as his friend, I’m contractually obligated to also be concerned.”

“I can imagine that is not difficult.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” Molly shrugged. “As for the roommate situation, well…I’ve spoken to a few folks now, and two of them are actual people. But neither has…I dunno…they don’t have what I’m _looking_ for.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “And what is that, then?”

“Compatibility? Kinship? I don’t like them, very much?” Molly shook his head. “I suppose it’s just because Fjord and I have lived together for so long. It’s hard for me to imagine bunking with anyone else.”

“I understand that,” Caleb nodded. “Nott and I have shared a home now for almost two years. We have known each other for at least three. That is a long time to spend with a person. And you should live with someone you can trust, even care about.”

Molly smiled faintly. He wanted to nod emphatically, wanted to say: _Exactly right. That’s why, in another life, I would’ve asked_ you _to move in with me_. _In another life, I would’ve tried to share my home with_ you _. And in another life, you would’ve made me the happiest person in the world_.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he lifted his mug and leveled a curious smile at Caleb. “I’ve always wondered about that, actually. How _did_ you and Nott end up as friends? And end up sharing a shitty—no offense—apartment, together? You told me last time that you met when she broke in, right?”

Caleb snorted. “ _Ja_ , more or less. Though I realize now, it sounded a bit overly dramatic. In truth, I had left the window open and she was mostly just curious about what was inside.”

“And there you go, crushing my fantasy of a high-stakes urban battle.”

“ _Verzeihung_ ,” Caleb chuckled. “I suppose you will need to look elsewhere.”

“Tragic. But tell me, what happened after the not-so-wild break-in?”

“We ended up living together,” Caleb shrugged. “But, er...that did not pan out too well, and we decided to pack up and leave to find somewhere else to live. We actually tried the wilderness, for a while, until we realized we were heading towards _this_ city, and we thought it would be time for a change of pace."

“Well, I can certainly imagine city living is much easier than fending for yourselves in the woods.”

Caleb laughed. “No, not at all. Here, there are things like social convention and taxes and rent. Out there, all you have to worry about is staying alive. Which was hard, but not so hard for a goblin with a crossbow and a man who sets things on fire with his mind. Bears did not stand a chance to us.”

“You were hunting _bears_?” Molly breathed, his tone a mix of horror and intrigue.

“Er…no. I think we actually only had one run-in, total. It was mostly just fish and small game.”

“Oh.”

“ _Ja_ , sorry to crush that dream as well.”

“No, no,” Molly grinned, “it’s good to know that you weren’t running around destroying wildlife and fighting grizzlies. Otherwise I’m not sure we could be friends, dear.”

“It is highly possible that we might have had to fight much worse things, though,” Caleb said. “We were lucky. The woods outside this city are dangerous—” and here he took a sip of his gingerbread cappuccino, “—all manner of things live there, and all manner of things can happen.”

Molly gave a slow nod. He briefly recalled waking up, swallowed by dirt, then clawing his way out of the earth and into the forest-lined night.

“You don’t say?”

Caleb shrugged. “Nott will maintain that she saw some sort of ogre through the trees, one night. Very scary.”

“That does sound terrifying. Wouldn’t like to fight that.”

Caleb lowered his mug, and met Molly’s gaze. “Actually, forgive me if I overstep, but I _have_ been curious about something. That night we were at the Moondrop and everything…happened, you _were_ fighting. With swords, _ja_? Where did you learn to do that?”

Molly felt panic shoot through his body. In this face of this terror, he did what he did best:

“Oh!” he said. “Well, actually, my parents taught me.”

Caleb blinked in surprise. “ _Really_?” he asked. “Were they swordsmen? Swords…people?”

Molly chuckled. “Swords-people, sure, dear. We, ah…we actually came from a long line of practitioners. It’s some kind of old magic or something, I’m not sure. My parents broke off from the larger family before I was born, but they still taught me the basics in case I ever needed to defend myself.”

“And…and the glowing and the ice, was that you?”

Molly gripped the handle of his mug. “It was,” he admitted. “Like I said. Old magic.”

“That is…fascinating,” Caleb murmured. “Thank you…thank you for sharing this with me.”

Molly gave him a faint smile. “Of course, dear. You know, it feels good to have someone know the truth. Especially you.”

“Ah…does it? Why me?”

“Because I like you, dear.” He lifted his mug. “And I think you deserve it.”

His eyes vanished behind the cup for just a moment. When it plunked back down onto the tabletop, Molly wore a wide grin and a cheerful expression.

“Mine’s empty,” he said, and pointed towards Caleb’s drink. “How are you doing, dear?”

“What? Oh…I believe I still have half left.”

“It was a great choice, and I’d just love some more. Want me to fill yours too?”

“Oh, uh, sure. _Ja_ , alright.”

“Hang on, then,” Molly said, standing up. “I’ll be right b—”

“Wait, wait,” Caleb quickly held up one hand, rummaged through his pockets with the other. “Here, let me give you some money, I promised to pay this time.”

“Oh, it’s—”

“Mister Mollymauk. Please.”

“…sure, Mister Caleb. Of course.”

Caleb produced a fistful of loose bills, and a couple coins, which he slid across the table. “I am a man of my word,” he said. “I am also a frequent liar, actually, but in this specific instance I would like to be truthful.”

Molly chuckled. “I think we have more in common than I thought,” he said. “Sit tight, dear. I’ll be right back.”

\--------------------------------------

“…is a big city. Not everything makes its way to us, and I’m sorry to say this, but there are a lot of things that can happen to…to strange visitors.”

“But you’ll try, right?” Jester asked. She was holding Kiri’s hand quite firmly now, patting it as reassuringly as she could. “You’ll definitely do your best, right?”

Norda returned her pleading gaze with the slightest, least-committal shrug that any of them had ever seen. “We’ll let you know if anything turns up,” she said.

Jester frowned, opened her mouth as if she wanted to say more. Then she just sagged her shoulders and nodded glumly. “Thanks anyways.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Beau muttered. Her quiet tone held a layer of soft, furious anger. “I guess we’ll just go, then.”

“Sure,” Norda said, and turned back to the papers on her desk. Then she quickly looked up and added, “Oh, right. While you’re all here, you can swing over to the detention cell and pick up your friend.”

They all exchanged glances.

“Our friend?” Nott frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The big one?” Norda leaned back in her chair. “She was there that night at the Moondrop, wasn’t she? I thought she was with you all.”

They stared at each other some more. A light bulb went off in Jester’s head.

“ _Yasha_?”

“That’s the one,” Norda nodded. “We brought her in yesterday evening after someone reported her for loitering, and then she just asked to stay the night here. It was weird, but things were quiet enough that we could spare the space. I was about to make her leave soon, since my lunch break’s coming up. She mind as well go with you.”

“Take us to her,” Beau said immediately. And when Norda raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, Beau sighed and said, “Take us to her, _please_?”

\--------------------------------------

“Do you think birds drink coffee?” Molly asked as he set their mugs back onto the table. “Do you think Jester and Beau figured out what to feed our new friend?”

“I would imagine so, _ja_?” Caleb reached for his drink. “They certainly seemed alright with her eating all those popcorn kernels during our movie night.” Then he paused, and grimaced. “Maybe I should do some research into this. In retrospect, I cannot imagine that that was healthy.”

“None of us are fit to raise a kid,” Molly sighed. “It was cruel of the gods to give Kiri to us.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Now, that might be a little harsh. I for one am very glad that Beauregard and Jester found her, especially given _where_ they found her.”

“I… _suppose_ that’s true. I guess I’m just worried about us being a bad influence on her. And, of course, I wouldn’t want to put her in danger.”

“Do you think that is likely?”

“Dunno,” Molly shrugged. “All I _do_ know, is that I failed with the last kid I tried to protect.”

“The last kid?” Caleb’s brow furrowed. “Who…who was…?”

Molly lowered his mug. “Remember the Moondrop?

There was a brief pause. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Mollymauk, I am sorry—”

Molly shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “It’s fine, dear. And she’s fine too, right? Plus, like you said about the bird, it _was_ good that we were there. It just doesn’t seem like the sort of thing kids should ever have to deal with, you know?”

Caleb actually snorted at that. “Agreed. When I was a child, all I had to worry about was whether or not the chickens were fed, and if I would be allowed to play soccer with the older children.”

Molly cracked a grin. “And were you?”

“No,” Caleb laughed. “No, my parents worried I would get hurt. They wanted to keep me safe, you know? Though that never stopped me, in the end.”

“What a little rebel you were, eh?”

“Indeed. My parents were always at their wit’s end with me, especially when I was very young. I remember once, my mother had baked a fresh loaf of bread, and I stole the entire thing to go feed to the crows that plagued our fields, because I felt so bad that the scarecrow was preventing them from eating.”

“Gods, that must’ve gone over well.”

“They were furious, when they found out! But when they found out _why_ I had done it, all they did was give me a mild scolding and tell me that in the end, I had tried to do good. And that was also very important.”

“They sound like good people.”

Caleb’s expression went melancholy. He took a sip of liquid gingerbread. “ _Ja_ ,” he sighed. “ _Ja_ , they were.”

A thousand questions instantly bloomed in Molly’s mind. _What happened? When was it? Did it hurt? Does it hurt?_

_Are you hurt?_

Molly ignored them all.

“I’d like to think mine were too,” he sighed. “I never knew them, so well.”

Caleb looked up. “Really? But they taught you those things, did they not?”

“Sure,” Molly nodded, “but they never really taught me about…well, about themselves. It’s hard, to really know your parents, isn’t it?”

The corner of Caleb’s lips quirked up. “ _Ja_ ,” he said. “Definitely.”

There was another brief pause. Then Molly shook his head, and clinked his mug against the table. “Enough with the sad things, eh?” He leaned forwards. “We should be talking about something _fun_.”

“Fun?” Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Molly’s grin turned wicked. “I _have_ to know. What did you think of Honey Heist?”

\--------------------------------------

“Alright, alright, _spill_ ,” Beau said as Jester rummaged through her purse for the apartment key, “what the _fuck_ were you doing at the police station?”

Yasha, standing behind them in a heavy winter coat, faded grey jeans, and snow-covered boots, shrugged. “I was not initially planning on it, but it made sense once I was there. Also, you are very adorable. I am glad we met.”

This was directed at Kiri, who trilled happily. Beau looked dejected and tried not to show it.

“How does that make _any_ sense?” Nott demanded. She was holding Kiri’s hand, wearing a look of intense suspicion. 

“Unless…unless…” She gasped. “You’re working for the _government_! Or, or you’re trying to _convince_ us that you are! And you would only do that if…if…if you were a _spy_!” She thrust out an accusatory finger. “Are you a spy sent to gather and steal information about us? Are you only befriending us so that your victory will be that much sweeter?”

Jester nudged the door open and headed inside with Beau. Kiri carefully peeled her wing free, and slipped in after them.

“I am not a spy,” Yasha said, and gently lowered Nott’s finger. “And if I wanted you all dead, I would have done it a long time ago."

Nott, undeterred, followed closely behind her. She almost tripped when Yasha paused in the doorway to remove her jacket.

“First of all,” she said, starting to kick off her shoes, “it’s _terrible_ spy work to kill the people you’re spying on. That’s just Subterfuge 101. And secondly, if you weren’t at the station because you’re secretly working either for _, or against_ , the government, then what were you doing there?”

Yasha hung her coat up. “If you must know,” she sighed, “I was there because I wanted somewhere warm to sleep.”

From the open kitchen, Beauregard dropped a mug.

It was plastic, so it didn’t shatter, but the expression on her face was still full of shock and horror.

“You wanted _what_?” she yelled.

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” Jester frowned. She was in the living room-section, helping Kiri unbutton her tiny parka. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to sleep somewhere _cold._ It’s just weird that you had to go to the police when you could’ve just gone to your house—”

Then her eyes went wide. “Wait. Yasha, are you _homeless_?”

Yasha calmly removed her boots. She walked into the kitchen after Beau, and leaned against the counter. Only when the silence continued for another thirty seconds did she look around in confusion.

“Er…sorry, was that directed at me?”

“Yes!” Nott exclaimed. She ran to the kitchen as well, clambered up onto the counter and stared at Yasha incredulously. “ _Are_ you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you _homeless_?” Kiri repeated, in Jester’s voice.

Yasha blinked. “Yes? Is that a problem?”

“It’s most _definitely_ a problem!” Beau shouted again. “What the…what the _fuck_? Why didn’t you _tell_ us?”

“I did not think that was such a big deal,” came the bewildered answer. “I…do you not want to be my friend now, or—”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Jester finished removing Kiri’s jacket and lifted the kenku girl up onto her shoulders. “Not at all, oh gods. The problem is that you don’t have a place to live!” she exclaimed. “It’s _winter_!”

“It’s _winter_!” Kiri nodded.

“I know that,” Yasha said. “I have been paying attention to the weather.”

Beau retrieved the fallen mug and waved it around wildly. “So what, were you just going to stick it through? Get hypothermia or some shit and _die_?”

“I am tough,” Yasha shrugged. “It is fine.”

Nott shook her head. “Okay, first of all, it’s not fine,” she said. “And secondly, Yasha, why _don’t_ you have somewhere to live? I mean…when _I_ was running around the streets it was because my clan kicked me out and I had no money and I’m a monster—”

“Well, hey—” Jester interjected, but Nott waved her off.

“You look _normal_ ,” she continued. “More or less. And you had a job that paid pretty well, right? With the purple one.”

“Yes,” Yasha agreed.

“Is it just…do you just not _want_ to have a house, or something?” Beau asked carefully. “Because, because I _guess_ I can sort of see that with your whole mysterious-loner aesthetic, but really. The benefits of your own living space are pretty great, Yash.”

“No, I would like a house. That could be nice.”

“So why don’t you just _get_ one?” Jester asked. “Is that…isn’t that how it works? You _have_ cash, don’t you?”

“That is the problem,” Yasha nodded. “I have cash.”

There was a quick, confused breath of silence. Then Beau groaned and shook her head.

“We’re doing this thing were you keep answering the question, but you’re not _really_ answering it,” she said. “ _Why_ is that a problem?”

“Because,” Yasha said. “I _only_ have cash. I cannot open a bank account. I also do not have ID, and I cannot provide the documentation I would need to get an apartment.”

“But _why_?” Beau pressed. “ _Why_ is that?”

Yasha shrugged. “Because legally, in this Empire, I do not exist.”

\--------------------------------------

“But badgers are _brutal_!” Molly exclaimed, lowering his mug. “Those things have claws like you wouldn’t believe, and skin like steel! Did you know that their species is classified under ‘Least Concern’ because they’re such tough little blighters? There’s no _way_ it would lose.”

“That might be true,” Caleb shrugged, “but Nott can be very vicious if provoked. Of course, she feels bad about it, but once, there was this raccoon going through our garbage can at night, and keeping us awake…"

\--------------------------------------

Jester came into the kitchen. She lowered Kiri down onto the counter, and sunk exhaustedly into a bar stool.

“Yasha, I feel like we need a little more explanation,” Nott said.

“ _Seriously_ ,” Beau nodded.

“I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but this is…a little crazy,” Jester agreed.

Yasha sighed. She pulled over a stool of her own, and sat down. “I was not born here,” she explained. “Because of that, I have no records, or papers, or anything like that. I worked with Gustav because he never asked questions, and I used to sleep in one of the spare dressing rooms. Molly and I both did, actually.”

“Wait, wait, that’s a good point,” Nott said. “Does _Molly_ know about this?”

Yasha’s expression turned sheepish. “Er…no,” she admitted. “I did not want him to worry.”

Beau threw her hands up into the air. “Well, all of us are fuckin’ worried, now!” she yelled. “Seriously, Yasha, this is crazy! You…you’re the most badass person I know, but it’s _cold_ outside! You’re gonna get sick! You can’t kick the asses of viruses and shit!”

Jester glanced worriedly at the clock hanging next to the fridge. “Guys, I need to go meet Fjord to go over some stuff for our move, now, but…Yasha, this is really something I think we should help you with. Or at least _talk_ about, a little more! And that ‘we’ includes Molly.”

Yasha bit her lip, looked like she wanted to protest. Then her shoulders sagged. “Fine,” she said. “But really, I am okay—”

“I’m telling him to come over _right now_ ,” Jester said, pulling out her phone. “And when I come back, if we haven’t figured this out, we’re going to keep working on it.”

“Er…actually, I think he and Caleb are still at coffee—” Nott began.

Jester shook her head. “That’s a big deal, I know,” she said. “But this is _way_ more important.”

\--------------------------------------

“…and then the raccoon—”

Caleb was cut off as Molly’s phone, resting facedown on the table, started to buzz. The tiny moon charm hanging from its case rattled against the wood.

“Sorry, dear.” Molly flipped the screen around. “It’s probably a telemarket—

They both stared at the name, taken aback.

“Is that Jester?” Caleb asked.

“I’m gonna answer it,” Molly said. “Hang on.”

Caleb watched Molly hit the little green icon, hold the phone up to his ear. He watched Molly greet Jester cheerfully, ask her how she was doing, and then watched as his expression changed from puzzled, to shocked, to completely and utterly outraged.

“She _what_?” he demanded.

After a few more moments, a few more hurried words, Molly stood up and grabbed his coat.

“I need to got to Jester’s house,” he said. “There’s…Yasha’s back, and she’s got some fucking news.”

“Is everything alright?” Caleb asked quickly. “Is…is there anything I can do?”

Molly seemed to consider this for a seconds.

He nodded.

“Get your jacket on, dear. Nott’s actually there now, too. I’ll fill you in on the way over.”

\--------------------------------------

“Yasha, dear, _darling_ , I can’t _believe_ you didn’t tell me.”

It was half an hour later, and Jester had left to go meet up with Fjord. Beau remained in the kitchen, now stood in front of a giant pot of boiling water. She was in the middle of ripping open five packets of ramen noodles as Kiri stood on the counter next to her, watching bubbles form in the pot with childlike fascination.

Everyone else was in the living room. Caleb, Yasha, and Nott sat on the couch, Molly paced back and forth across the carpet.

“I did not want you to worry,” Yasha said, trying to calm him down. “It wasn’t something you could fix.”

“It bloody well was!” He yelled. “Yasha, _I’ve_ got fake papers! I could’ve gotten them for _you_! Er…” his gaze danced worriedly over the rest, lingered on Caleb.

“I am definitely curious,” the wizard shrugged, “but that is not important right now.”

“Bless you,” Molly said, and immediately turned back to Yasha. “I mean…you could’ve stayed with me and Fjord, dear. I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded! Hell, if you had told me that you didn’t have somewhere to go, I never would’ve left you at the Moondrop by yourself!”

“But you wanted to move out,” Yasha sighed. “You always talked about getting your own place, and you were so excited when Fjord asked you to room with him.”

Molly plopped down onto the coffee table. “Yasha. That’s _so_ not important, compared to making sure you were taken care of.”

“I don’t need people to take care of me,” she said gently. “You know this.”

“That’s true,” Molly agreed, “but people _want_ to.”

“Had you been at the Moondrop this entire time?” Caleb asked. “At least, until it closed?”

“I was,” Yasha nodded. “Well, I was, whenever I was in town. I asked the others to not tell you, Molly.”

“And boy, did they deliver,” he said glumly.

“And what about when you disappear?” Nott asked. “Where do you go then?”

Yasha met her gaze. “Wherever I need to be.”

Nott nodded very slowly, in a very confused manner.

Molly leaned forward. “I’m not going to tell you what to do when you’re not around, and I respect your autonomy, dear, but you’ve _got_ to know that in _this_ city, it isn’t safe on the streets at night. You’ll get into worlds of trouble! And it certainly isn’t good for your health.”

“So what do you suppose I do, then?”

“Do you still know that counterfeiter?” Nott asked Molly. “Couldn’t you go to them?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, she got caught. I’m not sure where she is anymore, and with Desmond and Gustav already under legal pressure after the Kylre business, I’m not sure I want to get them involved.”

“I definitely do not want them to get into trouble,” Yasha agreed.

“You know,” Beau called from the kitchen, “there’s actually, uh, there’s actually a good chance that Jester could help you out.”

All of them went silent. Then:

“What?”

“ _Jester_?”

“ _How_?”

Beau finished scooping the last of the ramen into a fifth bowl. It was pink, with little kitty-cats on the side.

“Jes is good at forgery,” she said as casually as if she had declared someone’s superb whistling skills. “If you give her some time, she might be able to cook something up.”

Then Beau poured soup into the bowl, sprinkled some packet-seaweed on top. “Also, lunch is ready. Nott, there’s forks in the drawer next to the sink.

All of them got up and approached the kitchen island in varying states of complete confusion.

Nott fetched herself, and Kiri, a fork.

“Even if…even _if_ Jester’s a master of crime,” Molly sighed, “which I feel like we need to address at a later date, that still won’t help us _right_ now.” Beau passed him a bowl of ramen. “It could take ages to get everything set,” he continued, “even with the right paperwork. Yasha, you should stay with me and Fjord until we figure things out.”

Yasha picked up her chopsticks, turned to face Molly. “I do not want to impose—” she began.

“ _Nonsense_ ,” Molly said, waving a hand. “I’m serious. Until we figure things out, you should stay with us.”

“But isn’t Fjord moving?” Nott asked. “And Jester, it’s the same question with what we’re going to do with…K-I-R-I,” she finished, eyeing the little kenku over nervously.

“She can write, you know,” Caleb said, and reached for his own chopsticks. “I am pretty sure she understands you.”

“She understands you,” Kiri confirmed. “You know this,” she added in Yasha’s voice.

“But, on the subject of moving,” Caleb said slowly, “I actually think I might have a solution to this problem.”

“Do you?” Yasha asked. “Though again, it is not a problem for me—”

“—it totally is,” Molly argued.

Caleb pointed at Beau. “You,” he said.

“What?”

He sighed. “Don’t _you_ still need a roommate?”

There was another moment of silence. This one was much longer, filled with the sound of Nott slurping noodles and Kiri attempting to copy her, despite having a beak.

Then Beau sat down in one of the bar stools. She wore a very peculiar expression, as if her face couldn’t decide whether to glare, to glower, or to break out into a huge grin and sing Caleb’s praises to the heavens.

She settled on frowning, which was a safe neutral ground.

“I mean…I guess?” she said. “But, uh…if Yasha would rather stay with Molly—”

“Actually,” Molly said, a smile starting to form across his own face, “I’ve already got a couple people who I could choose from for _my_ new roommate. But I bet you and your surly personality have scared all _your_ potential clients away."

“Hey, fuck you!”

“See? My point exactly. And Yasha, dear, this way you might actually be _helping_ Beau.”

Yasha turned her chair around slightly. Now Beau’s cheeks and ears were turning red, though that could also have been from anger. Yasha’s pale face had taken on a faint dusting of pink.

“Is…er… _is_ this something you might be interested in?”

“Fuck yes—wait, I mean, uh…” Beau crossed her arms. “I mean, I’d be _down_. But, like, no pressure.”

Yasha rubbed the back of her neck. “I…I suppose I would also be ‘down’ for that.”

Caleb’s expression was stoic as ever, but there was a faint gleam in his eyes. “Then it is settled, _ja_?”

“I, uh…” Beau glanced at Yasha, who shrugged in a manner that said: _sure?_

“It’s settled,” Beau tried.. “I guess. I think?”

“I suppose it works,” Yasha nodded. Then she hesitated and added, “I think?”

“Excellent!” Molly grinned, and threw his arms around Yasha. The impact knocked the ramen off her chopsticks and back into the soup. “If that’s the case, I can help you get your things together! Are you moving in today, or will you stay with me and Fjord, first?”

“She should move in today,” Caleb said. When five pairs of eyes swiveled around to stare at him, he just shrugged and looked down at his bowl. “It would save the effort of transporting things again. As long as Jester is fine with it.”

“I do not have many belongings,” Yasha chimed in. “Only a backpack stashed away, and a sword.”

“A _what_?” Beau asked.

“I have seen the sword,” Caleb said. “It is a good sword.”

“I think we’re getting a little of track now,” Molly sighed. “Yasha?”

“If it is fine with Jester and Beau,” Yasha answered slowly, “I…I can stay here.”

“It’s fine with me,” Beau said immediately. “I’m sure Jester would say yes, too.”

“I’m sure!” Kiri repeated. “Welcome to the gang!” she added in a shrill, ragged voice.

“If that’s all settled, I think we need to back up now,” Nott said in that exact same voice. “Where did you get a _sword_?”

“Craigslist,” Yasha shrugged, and lifted her bowl to her mouth. “It was half-off. It came with a free sheath.”

\--------------------------------------

When lunch ended and farewells had been said, Molly, Caleb, and Nott gathered their coats and scarves and headed to the front door to return to their respective homes. Caleb was the last to go, but just as he was about to leave, Beau grabbed his arm and pulled him in close.

“What’re you playing at, Widogast?” she hissed. “What was all that about?”

“You needed a roommate, _ja_?” he whispered back. “Yasha needed a place to be. It is win-win, as you say.”

“She could’ve stayed with Molly,” Beau muttered. “She could’ve done that.”

“True,” Caleb nodded, “but then she would not be with you.”

This was met with a heavy, thoughtful pause.

He carefully pried his sleeve free and gave her faint grin. “You are welcome, Beauregard.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. “Fuck off,” she said loudly. Then, under her breath, she added: “Uh, thanks. I guess.”

Caleb dipped his head, smiled even wider, and walked out of the apartment. And with a glower that wasn’t quite as intense as usual, Beau swung the door shut behind him and turned around just in time to see Yasha take her hoodie off, revealing a black tank-top beneath.

Beau took a deep breath. She tried to think pure thoughts, and failed.

\--------------------------------------

“How come you didn’t tell the others that your papers are fake too?” Nott asked that night, as she sat on Caleb’s bed and watched him fold laundry with Frumpkin in her lap. “Why didn’t you say we know a guy that Yasha could go to?”

Caleb grimaced slightly and slid a pair of jeans to the side. “Because Mollymauk was right. By the time Thed would have finished his work, Yasha likely would have already frozen to death. Also, he probably did not appreciate the way we paid him, and probably would not like to see us again.”

“I bet he didn’t even notice.”

“Most people tend to notice when silver bars turn back into wood, _spatz_.”

Nott shrugged, and tweaked one of Frumpkin’s whiskers. The cat did not enjoy this. “Anyway,” she said, “I still think it was a good idea that you had, to tell Beau and Yasha to move in together. They’ll be forced to spend time together, this way!”

Caleb sighed, reached for a pair of sweatpants. “When you put it like that, it actually makes me worry more that I messed up. What if neither of them were ready for that sort of thing?”

“What, for _bonding_? For getting to know each other? They don’t _have_ to fall in love, even though I bet they will.”

“That is true,” Caleb grabbed a t-shirt, “but even deciding to become closer friends can be a big risk. Especially when you are also suddenly thrust into being roommates as well. What if their personalities do not mesh, after all? What if they end up disliking one another? What if one of them opens up, says something too personal, and scares the other away?”

“They won’t know ‘till they try,” Nott shrugged, and she lifted Frumpkin up into the air. “Not trying is the worst thing you can do, because then you’ll just be stuck worrying, forever.”

“Even if worrying, at least, feels safe?”

“What’s more important to you?” Nott asked, only half-paying attention. “Being safe, or being happy?”

There were a few beats of silence, after that. Then Caleb sighed, and moved the laundry basket to the floor. He flopped down sideways onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.

“When did you get so wise and so brave, my friend?”

Nott snorted. “I’m not brave,” she said. “I’m a coward.”

“Really? Because what you just said to me, sounded like the words of a very brave woman.”

She waved a hand dismissively, used her other to scritch the back of Frumpkin’s neck. “Stuff like that isn’t brave. Brave is stopping a moving train, or fighting off a burglar, or running into a burning building to save a drowning kid.”

“Er…what?”

“You know what I mean.”

Caleb sighed, and closed his eyes. “I suppose I do,” he conceded. “But I stand by what I said. I am beginning to think that making choices about secrets, and taking chances with friends, are the things that require the most bravery of all.”

“Maybe you’re overthinking it,” Nott said. “You’re really smart, but sometimes…you’re so smart that you think about things too much.”

“Perhaps,” Caleb murmured. “But in truth, _spatz_ , I do not know how else to be.”

\--------------------------------------

Today | 10:29PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** im lying bed now thinking  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and gods,  
**Molly Tealeaf:** WHAT a wild thing that was, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you think you know a person, and BAM  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you find out they’re keeping secrets from you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** even though it hurts them  
**Molly Tealeaf:** isn’t that funny

Today | 10:35PM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** you know, ive made it a habit to never get involved with anybody’s shit  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because gods know ive got enough of my own  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and it isn’t any of my business  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but now im starting to want to?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** its yours and yasha’s fault  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I loved the troupe, but honestly  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was never so invested in all their lives  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and ive never wanted someone to be invested in mine  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I want to tell you so many things, now  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and im not even sure why 

Today | 10:42PM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** do you remember that night we shared  
**Molly Tealeaf:** up on the balcony above the city, when we first met?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** with the lights gleaming below us?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and you told me that you weren’t good  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I told you that I’d never met anyone better?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** what happened to that? why can’t I talk to you like THAT anymore?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** shit was it because I was tispy  
**Molly Tealeaf:** wait fuck 

Today | 10:58PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I promise, from now on  
**Molly Tealeaf:** whenever you ask me a question  
**Molly Tealeaf:** all you’ll get is the truth  
**Molly Tealeaf:** otherwise how on earth will we get to know each other, right?

Today | 11:04PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I wish you would make that same promise back  
**Molly Tealeaf:** of course, I have no right to pry  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and its terrible I’d even think it  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but is it terrible that I want to know?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** is it terrible that I want _you_ to know?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** …  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyway  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I had a wonderful time with you today  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you for the coffee, and for wingman-ing for our favorite disaster  
**Molly Tealeaf:** though you can never tell her I said that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and hey!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** see you around, Mister Caleb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Things are movin' along, this arc! Y'all can, as always, probably expect an update next weekend (though now I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) over on the blue hellsite, so it might be a little late! If you follow me over there, maybe pop on over and take a look!
> 
> And, of course, please consider leaving Comments and Kudos! I love reading everything y'all have to say, and it means the world to know how you feel about this lil fic! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles memes and shitty, shitty posts are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!
> 
> <33333


	12. A Ceiling Full of Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Beau the Academic Counselor, Jester the Love Doctor, Nott the Babysitter, molly's distress and caleb's emotions and the start of the inciting action of arc 2

“The problem isn’t _Redleaf_ , it’s the league! They let him play with zero prep, of _course_ he’s gonna get hurt! Now he’s out for the season, and there’s no point in even watching, anymore.”

Fjord, sitting on one of the exercise machines with a towel around his neck, raised an eyebrow. “I thought you hated that guy,” he said. “I thought he was an asshole who wasn’t worth the cost of his sneakers.”

Beau snorted and lowered her water bottle. “Sure, ‘course he is. That’s why I care about him. It’s gonna be so _boring_ without ‘im.”

Fjord wiped the sweat off his brow and sighed. “I think you might need to re-evaluate why you watch sports,” he said. “Because I don’t think it’s for the right reasons.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me,” Beau scowled. But then she paused, and added: “Wait, speaking of lectures, don’t you have somewhere to be, right now? Like, a test or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got my last final in an hour.”

She stared at him incredulously. “Why the fuck are you _here_ , then? Shouldn’t you be _studying_? Or at least cramming?”

Fjord shrugged. “I’ve been studyin’ pretty hard with Caleb these last few weeks, I think I’ll be fine. And for the record, I did try to cram this morning, but nothing stuck.”

“You must not be very good at it, then,” Beau snorted. “If you ever need pointers, I’m your gal.”

Fjord slid his towel off his neck and wrung it out between his hands. “I dunno,” he said, “recently I just haven’t really been able to focus on classes. I, uh, I sort of learned a couple things about myself that are makin’ me wonder if school really even is the right choice, anymore.”

“About yourself? Like sexually, or—”

“What?! Gods, no!” Fjord spluttered. “No, no, nothing like that. Stuff about…” he glanced around quickly, then leaned in and whispered, “…about my magic.”

“Oh,” Beau nodded. “The green lights and stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“You never did tell me what was goin’ on, with all that,” she said, not very nonchalantly. “Not that I’m prying, of course, that’s your choice to make as an adult or whatever. But…I _am_ kinda curious.”

Fjord sighed. “You and me both. I’d definitely tell you if I knew, and the whole point of _goin’_ to school was to find out. But now…I’m startin’ to think that education and, and _institutions_ might not be the right places to look.”

“What _are_ the right places, then?”

Fjord’s expression turned sheepish. “You’re gonna judge me for my answer.”

“I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Definitely. C’mon, spill.”

“I think…I think I’m supposed to look within _myself_?”

There was a moment’s pause.

“You’re right, that was some real bullshit. But,” Beau added, shrugging and leaning back, “It’s not like _I_ know anything about arcane shit. If you think that’s what you gotta do, if you think you’re supposed to follow your heart, or whatever, you should do it.”

He blinked. “You think?”

“Yeah, dude. If that’s what you gotta do, then do it.”

Fjord considered this. He stared at the towel between his hands, and felt the damp fabric against his skin.

“Thanks, Beau.”

“No problem. And hey, if you ever need me to punch some answers out of you, I got you.”

He snorted. “I don’t really think that would help. But, uh, thanks. And…gods, this is gonna sound weird—”

“Nothing you’ve ever said has sounded normal.”

Fjord sighed. “Yeah, okay, fine. What I was gonna ask though, was, uh. If…if you ever want to, and Jes and everyone else too, if y’all want, when spring comes back around, maybe…maybe we all could go to the beach?”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that would help?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he shrugged, and turned to meet her gaze. “Maybe? I’m not sure. But…for some reason, I feel like that’s something I need to do.”

“I will _never_ understand you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can see that.”

Beau gestured at him with her water bottle. “Fuck it,” she said. “Pitch it to the others, when you’re ready. I’m game. I’ve always wanted to see the ocean, anyways.”

“You’ve _never_ been?”

“Nah, dude. Closest I’ve ever gotten was a really boring lake.”

Fjord gave her a nod. “In that case,” he said, “we’re _definitely_ going. Gods, there’s nothing like it. You know, seeing the sun rise over the water, a thousand colors all burstin’ outta the sky, feeling the wind between— _ow!_ Why’d you do that?”

Beau grinned, and lightly tapped the spot on his bicep where she’d just punched him. “You were gettin’ weird,” she said, “and also you _really_ should be getting ready for your test. I had to do it.”

“It could’ve been _nicer_ ,” he said, 

“Oh, really?” Beau asked. “Really? Are you _sure_? Think hard about that answer.”

“…alright, I _guess_ that was practically gentle, for you.”

“I’m so glad we can understand each other.”

\--------------------------------------

“Here,” Jester said, smiling as she handed Yasha a wall brush. “This one’s yours.”

Yasha accepted it with one hand, gestured to the room around them with the other. “And we are painting this whole place, yes?”

“Yup!” Jester waved her arms and spun in a circle. “Cover it all up, until there’s no more boring white plaster. It’ll probably take a little while,” she admitted, “but it can be tons of fun, especially when we work together! Thanks for agreeing to help me, by the way.”

“Of course,” came the immediate reply. “You are my friend. Also, you are also letting me stay in your home for free. This is the least I could do to thank you.”

“There’s no need,” Jester reminded her gently. “You needed a place to go! Plus, you know, it’ll be _your_ house soon, not mine.”

Yasha shook her head. “It will always be your home as well. Even if you do not live there.”

Jester’s grin widened, and she nodded happily. Then, her eyebrows went up as if a thought had just occurred to her. “ _Buuut_ ,” she said slowly, “when _I’m_ not there, and when Kiri’s not around, it’ll just be you and Beau, right? _Just_ you and Beau.”

“Er…yes?” Yasha blinked. “That is the plan, for us to be roommates.”

“Roommates, right,” Jester agreed, the grin now threatening to split her face in half. “But, you know, at night, when you’re _alone_ together, and everything is quiet and all you have is each other, maybe you’ll be something…else?”

Yasha’s lips moved silently as she did the math in her head.

“We will be…sleeping?”

“…that’s not _exactly_ what I had in mind.”

“It is important to get a good night’s sleep,” Yasha shrugged. “It makes you feel good in the mornings.”

“Right, right, of course,” Jester agreed, but you know what _else_ can make you feel good?” Her eyebrows went up and down suggestively 

Yasha considered this.

“A healthy breakfast.”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Jester sighed, “but again—”

“There is also sex, I suppose.”

Jester almost knocked over a can of paint in her excitement. “That’s it, that’s the one! Getting it _on_.”

“But that is extremely rude,” Yasha frowned, and reached over to steady the can. “Even Mollymauk was respectful enough to go elsewhere when he wanted to bring people home. And I would not want to disturb Beauregard.”

“Oh, if you do it right, I think she’d be the _opposite_ of disturbed. If you know what I mean.”

Yasha’s expression didn’t even change. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Jester opened her mouth as if she were mounting her second attack. But in the face of Yasha’s stoic, unmoving silence, she decided that maybe, maybe, she should just try again later. “Nevermind,” she said out loud. “We’re here to paint today, right?”

“Er…yes, that is right.”

Jester punched her brush into the air, struck a pose and grinned broadly.

“Alright then! Let’s get painting!”

\--------------------------------------

“So…what do you want to do?” Nott asked.

Kiri, sitting next to her on the couch, blinked very slowly and cooed.

“I have no idea what that means.”

Kiri cooed again.

Nott ran a hand through her hair. She had learned a lot in her time as a parent, but most of this knowledge was very specific towards thirty-year-old wizards who liked cats and despised themselves. Three-foot birds with no discernable self-loathing was a new territory.

“Are you tired?” she guessed. “Do you need naps? Or…are you bored? If you want to play, I can try and find some sticks or rocks outside.”

“So…what do you want to do?” Kiri echoed.

Nott frowned slightly. “What do _I_ want to do?”

This was met with an enthusiastic nod.

Nott thought about it. She rubbed her chin, and looked around Beau and Jester’s apartment.

“I dunno,” she said. “I mean…they _did_ tell us that we were allowed to eat whatever we wanted, right? And I _am_ a little hungry.”

“I _am_ a little hungry,” Kiri agreed. “Are you bored?”

A jagged smile broke across Nott’s face.

“Let’s make lunch,” she said. “Caleb never lets me use the stove at home because of…because of the _incident_ , but I’m sure that I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“I’m sure.”

“That’s the spirit. Come on, you can be my deputy-chef. Co-chef? I don’t know what the word for it is.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“First mate, then,” Nott said as she headed out into the kitchen. “And you can call _me_ Captain.”

\--------------------------------------

“—no, no, don’t worry about it.” Pause. “No, that makes complete sense.” Pause. “Yes, of course.” Pause. “Hey, you too.” Pause. “…yikes.” Pause. “Well, best of luck with that.” Longer pause. “Alright, now. Take care.”

Molly flopped back down onto his mattress and stared at the ceiling. Potential Roommate #3 was now officially out of the running, leaving only two options left—one of which he strongly suspected was a robot of some kind.

He closed his eyes. He counted the seconds as they passed with a faint air of detached boredom.

After the longest minute of his life was over, he opened them again. He sat up, and stared at his closet. Hanging off the handle, rumpled and dragging onto the floor, was his scarlet, glittering performer’s coat.

He never actually did get to wear it onstage.

Molly rolled over and slid his head under his pillow.

He missed the Moondrop. He missed the excitement. He missed those lights, and that music, and his friends.

\--------------------------------------

When the door to the library swung open, it ushered in a burst of chilled air that ruffled the pages of Caleb’s book.

He looked up, prepared himself to mask annoyance with a customary, lukewarm welcome, and paused.

“Beauregard?”

She was making a beeline for his desk. Her jacket, a faded old aviator with two of the buttons missing, squeaked faintly as she walked.

“Hey, Caleb.”

She leaned against his desk. He pointedly slid his nametag further away from her elbow.

“What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously. “I know you have no interest in reading, and I know you are not in school.”

“Exactly right,” she grinned. “I’m here to rent a movie. And I _think_ you know which one.”

Caleb blinked and said nothing. This indicated that he did not, in fact, know which one.

“Honey Heist,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Duh. Have you not been paying attention to my life? To _all_ of our lives?”

“I have not,” he replied. “But I am surprised you are _here_ for it. I thought you preferred watching movies on your laptop off illegal websites.”

“It’s not illegal,” she said immediately. “Downloading is, but just watching is fine.”

“I feel as if we may need to agree to disagree.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you should lecture _me_ on what’s legal and what’s not,” she said. “And anyways,” she added with less intensity, “I couldn’t find it online. Just pull it up and tell me where it is, please?"

Caleb breathed a heavy sigh, but turned towards his computer monitor and jiggled the mouse regardless. After a few moments of silence, he frowned.

“You still have it. It is checked out under Jester’s name.”

“Wait, what?” Beau leaned over the counter, which elicited an annoyed grunt from Caleb. She ignored this and tapped against the computer screen. “That’s not right. It’s not in our house anymore.”

He immediately adopted a stern, demanding expression. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Are you _certain_?”

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?”

“Did you _lose_ the movie, Beauregard?”

She was silent for a few beats.

“Would it be bad for me, if we did?”

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “For you, no. You would only have to give me $5.99 to replace it—”

“—aw, shit, is that it? Hang on, I might have—”

“—I, on the other hand,” Caleb sighed, “will have to fill out a form, and enter the new disk into our catalogue.”

“Is that…hard?”

“It is annoying, Beauregard.”

“Oh, well, then I don’t feel too bad,” she said, and pulled back from the desk. “I know you don’t care about annoying, otherwise you would’ve stopped hanging out with us months ago.”

For a few seconds, Caleb’s stern expression did not change. Then he sighed, and the corner of his lips quirked upwards.

“Fair play. But really, if you could find that DVD, it would help me enormously.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Beau shrugged. “In the meantime, if the O-G’s outta the question, I want something else. 

“If we have it, sure.”

She pulled out her phone and flipped the screen towards Caleb. It was open on a search result for—

“Honey Heist Two,” he read. “Electric Bear-galoo?”

“It’s like it was _made_ for us,” she grinned. “Do you have it?”

He turned back towards his monitor. “I will take a look,” he sighed. “But try not to lose this one, _ja_?”

\--------------------------------------

“This is a lovely color,” Yasha said from her perch atop the ladder. “Did you pick it yourself?”

Jester, on the ground and hefting the paint can over her head for Yasha to reach, beamed. “I did! It reminded me of the sky on a sunny day. And even though Fjord basically just said ‘do whatever’ and I was _super_ temped to choose pink, I just thought light blue would work better for us. You know?”

Yasha hummed her agreement. “It is as if you are standing in the open air,” she said.

“Exactly! It makes the room _way_ better to be in.”

The statement was _just_ odd enough to register in Yasha’s mind. She lowered the paintbrush with a faint frown across her face. “What?”

Without even hesitating, Jester waved her hand and put on a smile. “Nevermind,” she said. “That came out funny.”

One of Yasha’s eyebrows went up. She did not look convinced.

After a few more beats of silence, Jester gave up and sighed. “It’s just the room,” she shrugged. “That’s all.

“The…room?”

“You know, the way it is.”

“I do not understand.”

Jester seemed to wrestle internally with something. Then she lowered the paint can, set it down behind the ladder. She took a seat on a stack of newspapers, and gestured for Yasha to do the same.

After Yasha had climbed down and set her paint brush onto the ground, Jester twiddled her thumbs and sighed.

“It’s just…it’s just…I really like this apartment,” she said. “I _really_ do. It’s the prefect size for the two of us, and it isn’t far from the Leaky Tap or the school. There’s a shower _and_ a tub, so I can take bubble baths now, and Fjord really loves the kitchen. Our big couch fits perfectly in the corner of the living room, and there’s still space for my art easel _and_ for a cabinet for Fjord’s bottled ship collection.”

Jester twisted wretchedly at her sleeve. “But…but…there are no windows in here. In the bedroom. None at all. And I don’t…I don’t…it reminds me a lot of being at home. Of living with my momma.”

Yasha waited for more. When none came, she gingerly reached a hand out and placed her palm on Jester’s shoulder.

“Did you not like your home? Your mother?”

“No, no,” Jester said, rubbing her eyes. “I did. I loved her very much. And she loved me too, and I miss her every day. And I had a lot of nice things, and plenty of books and paints and dresses, and I would read stories and sing all the time, but…I didn’t really leave my room, much. I-I _couldn’t_ leave, much. And there was only this teensy window, right above my desk, and I’d have to sit on a stack of pillows to make myself tall enough to look into it. That was the only way for me to see the outside, mostly. So when I moved in with Beau, I made sure we had an apartment with a bunch of natural light, and huge windows everywhere. It was pretty great, you know? But now…and now…I feel a little bit...”

“Trapped.”

“Yeah.”

“I do not enjoy small spaces either,” Yasha said quietly. “Better to see the clouds and feel the breeze.”

Jester considered her for a moment. She nodded miserably.

“You should tell Fjord,” Yasha said. “He should know this.”

“I didn’t want to,” she sighed. “We looked at _so_ many apartments, and all of them were pretty okay, but this one is _perfect._ I shouldn’t be complaining. It has everything we need.”

“Except for what _you_ need,” Yasha murmured. “It is missing that.”

Jester shook her head. “But it’s got everything else. And there was nowhere, _nowhere_ ¸ that had all the things we wanted together _and_ the…the big windows. I tried to find one, believe me, I tried.”

“So what now?” Yasha pressed. “Say nothing, and pretend everything is fine?”

Jester shrugged again. “I guess? Besides, I _know_ I can leave here any time I want. And Fjord will be around, so I’ll never be lonely. I’ve just got to get used to it. I know I’m being dumb.”

Yasha put placed her other hand on Jester’s. “You are not,” she insisted gently. “It is reasonable.”

Jester sniffled. “I know. But there’s nothing left to do about it.”

Yasha went silent. Then she looked around the room once more, and then up at the ceiling, and then back to Jester. She squeezed the tiefling’s hand.

“I have an idea that could help. It is not that good,” she added quickly, “but it could help.”

Jester answered with a faint smile. “Don’t say that,” she said, “I’m sure it’s a great idea. What, um, what is it?”

Yasha gestured vaguely at the walls. “You said you liked the paint because it looked like the sky, yes?”

Jester wiped at her eyes. “Yeah?”

“So what if we also painted in the stars?”

Jester considered this. “But…but they wouldn’t be out on a sunny day,” she pointed out. “And the blue is very pale, I don’t think stars would show up even if we did add them.”

“Yes,” Yasha nodded, “but I was talking about for the night-time. We could use glow-in-the-dark paint. Molly has a lot of it still, from when he did that mural in his bathroom. And then, if you ever feel like you are trapped in here, that you are too inside, you can turn the lights off and stars would be above you. It would be like you are standing under the night sky.”

In the silence that followed, Yasha’s face flushed slightly and she rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, I know…I know that it is not really the same. And it is a very small thing, but I thought—”

Jester lunged forward and threw her arms around Yasha’s shoulders. She buried her face into that mane of hair, and nodded.

“It’s wonderful. It’s _perfect_."

Yasha had instinctively gone stiff, but a faint smile crept across her face. She untensed, wrapped her arms around Jester and gave her a pat on the back. “Of course,” she said softly. “I am glad you like it.”

“I love it,” sniffed Jester, and slowly pulled away. “How soon can you get Molly in here with that paint?”

Yasha reached for her phone. “For a project like this, and being recently unemployed, he will probably be here in twenty minutes.”

“Oh, I cannot wait now,” Jester gushed, and ran her sleeve one last time across her face. “This will be so cool! The coolest thing ever!” And then smiled at Yasha again and said, “I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”

Yasha felt her face heat up. “It was nothing,” she said quickly. “Just a small idea—”

Jester shook her head. “But it was an idea you had for _me_. I…didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, as you know. So the fact that someone cared enough to try helping me is…well, it’s pretty cool. So thank you.”

Yasha smiled. “Of course. But, you know, you are pretty good at helping us too. Like how you welcomed me into your home. And you helped me with my hair, that one time.”

Jester beamed. “That’s a good point. Plus, if it weren’t for me, you guys would all be super sick all the time. It’s like none of you have ever heard of Tylenol and chicken soup before. And I’m super-duper fun to be around.”

Yasha laughed at that. “Yes,” she agreed, “you are.”

\--------------------------------------

Molly arrived nineteen minutes later, wrapped tightly in a neon-green parka and carrying two metal cans of paint.

“Delivery!” he grinned, and strode proudly through the doorway. “For a Miss Yasha, and a Miss Jester, I believe?”

And then, they got to work.

\--------------------------------------

Nott and Kiri surveyed the damage dealt to Beau and Jester’s kitchen.

“All in all,” Nott said slowly, from her perch atop a bar stool behind the counter, “I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“It’s too bad,” Kiri sighed. “All in all.”

“Really? Because we didn’t even set the smoke alarm off, I think that’s a win.”

Kiri answered that with a meaningful stare, and Nott sighed. “Look, I _know_ that the oven’s got a situation going on, but it stopped yelling at me, and as long as we don’t open it, nobody has to know. And the fork didn’t even melt the whole way.”

Kiri continued to stare.

“Yeah, I _guess_ we should probably try to clean the sink.”

Another stretch of silence.

“Okay, okay, _and_ the stove.”

Kiri trilled happily at that, and Nott raised an eyebrow. “You know, you really are growing up fast. It must be our good influence.”

Kiri ruffled her feathers, puffed out her chest.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re super cute. Now come on, let’s get started before Beau comes—”

The front door burst open.

Beauregard emerged, wrapped up in her jacket, lightly dusted with snow and cheeks red from the cold.

Before she even shut the door, before she even _saw_ Nott and Kiri, before she even had a chance to put her bag down, she paused.

She sniffed the air, and her head swiveled towards the kitchen.

Her eyes went wide.

“What. The. _Fuck_ did you _do_?”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb sighed as he pulled his scarf off and hung it carefully back on its place on the coatrack. He sighed as he kicked his shoes off, tucked them neatly against the wall. He even sighed as he started unbuttoning his jacket, a little clumsily, since his fingers were still numb from the cold.

All day today, between the sorting through books and dealing with guests, just one thing had been plaguing his mind: the conversation he'd had yesterday, with Molly. 

What had the tiefling said? Something about magic, and then the past, and then…

_It feels good to have someone know the truth. Especially you._

Caleb dragged himself over to the tattered living room couch and collapsed into the cushions. Almost as if on cue, Frumpkin emerged from under the coffee table and leapt up into his lap.

 _Why me?_ he had asked.

 _Because I like you, dear. And I think you deserve it_.

Caleb scoffed, and ran a gentle hand through Frumpkin’s fur.

He certainly did _not_ deserve truth, nothing of the sort, especially when he had been so unforthcoming with his own past. What had he given away? That he played soccer as a child, and that his parents were good people? If Molly knew the extent of what he had done, the truth of his own sins, he would understand that the last thing Caleb deserved was someone liking him. The last thing he deserved was someone’s confidence.

But the strangest part, the strangest part of it all, was that Caleb _wanted_ it. That had never happened before, not even with…with…at least, not to this extent.

All of this was so strange, so new. He had only recently pulled himself together, only recently decided that he _did_ want to make a life for himself and Nott, decided that if he could help _her_ , it would not redeem him in the slightest but would at least give himself a reason to keep going, to _do_ something.

And yet, somewhere along the way, more people had entered the picture. These were not the days of a man and a goblin and a cat, anymore. Today, there was a surly youth, and a friendly tiefling, and green man with a thick accent, and a very tall angel who was almost as awkward as he was.

And…and…

Caleb sighed. He sank further into the couch.

 _Why me_?

In his lap, Frumpkin shifted slightly, and purred.

Why him, indeed.

\--------------------------------------

“Ladies, I think we may be just about the best darn artists in Exandria.”

“Do you think so?”

“ _I_ definitely do, it looks _amazing_!”

The faintest trails of hallway light peeked in under the door, and the room smelled quite strongly of fresh paint. But right now, in this moment, Jester, Yasha, and Mollymauk Tealeaf sat together on the blue-stained newspapers and gazed upwards, bathing in the soft, gentle glow, of a ceiling full of stars.

“Thanks, you guys.”

“Thank _you,_ dear, for giving me something to do today.”

“You were right,” Yasha smiled. “It _was_ fun.”

Jester giggled and knocked her head playfully against Yasha’s shoulder.

“Of course, it won’t last forever,” Molly pointed out. “Eventually, we’ll have to put on another layer.”

“That’s alright,” Jester shrugged. “By then, I think, I think it’ll be okay.”

Yasha sighed contentedly. “I feel as if I could stay here forever,” she said. “It is peaceful.”

“Agreed,” Molly nodded. “This has been much more entertaining that what I was planning on doing today.”

“And what was that?” Yasha asked.

“Literally nothing.”

“Hey,” Jester said, snapping her fingers, “hey, we should go out and celebrate! Not just the finishing painting, but we should just celebrate in general! It’s Friday night, it’s almost the holidays, we _should_ do something.”

“Like what?” Yasha asked.

Molly grinned. In the near-darkness, his ruby-red eyes glowed. “I know that look,” he said. “I’ve seen her make that face before, that’s the face of someone who’s got something crazy planned.”

Jester’s eyes took on a faint glow as well. She reached into her pocket, and produced her phone, and grinned.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 4:03PM 

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** WHOS FREE TONIGHT  
**NottSoBrave:** me  
**Drunkmonk:** bullshit you are, you haven’t even cleaned the stove yet  
**Lavender Thunder:** excuse me?  
**Drunkmonk:** Jes, Nott wrecked our kitchen  
**Seaman:** you did WHAT  
**NottSoBrave:** its not that bad  
**NottSoBrave:** its just mild surface level damage

Beauregard sent a photo  
Beauregard sent a photo

 **Seaman:** gods above  
**Lavender Thunder:** what is that in the oven  
**NottSoBrave:** well  
**NottSoBrave:** it WAS bacon  
**Seaman:** its purple??????  
**NottSoBrave:** maybe there was grape juice in there too, that doesn’t matter  
**Lavender Thunder:** WHY was there GRAPE JUICE  
**NottSoBrave:** i don’t know  
**NottSoBrave:** and like I said it doesn’t matter  
**NottSoBrave:** jester im still free, come free me from beau  
**Drunkmonk:** gods nott you were supposed to babysit kiri, not destroy our house  
**NottSoBrave:** its not your house just your kitchen  
**NottSoBrave:** and kiri’s fine, and she had a ton of fun  
**NottSoBrave:** kiri wants me to tell you all she said “it was a ton of fun, Nott’s the best”  
**Drunkmonk:** she didn’t say that  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** it doesn’t look THAT bad  
**Drunkmonk:** Jester youre supposed to be on MY side  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** I know and we can probably deal with that later BUT  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** right now  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** theres something even more important we need to do  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** whos FREEEEEE  
**Seaman:** me?  
**Lavender Thunder:** you already know I am, Yasha’s also in FYI  
**Drunkmonk:** im also in  
**Lavender Thunder:** why am I not surprised  
**Lavender Thunder:** Caleb?  
**NottSoBrave:** hes off work now hes probably around if we go pick him up  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** PERFECT

\--------------------------------------

“This is probably, like, a _serious_ health code violation,” Beau said as she turned to watch Caleb try and cram himself into the back row of the station wagon. “Are you _sure_ we all couldn’t have just taken the subway?”

“I hate those tunnels,” Jester grumbled, and scooted in closer to the window. “They’re dark, and smelly, and completely underground. Better to make Fjord drive.”

“Yeah, well, as long as I don’t get ticketed.”

“Plus,” she added as Molly’s horns narrowly avoided hitting hers, “Kiri would _hate_ the subway. I bet you don’t like enclosed spaces, right?” and she glanced down at the little kenku in her lap.

“Right?” Kiri agreed.

Jester grinned. “Exactly! But like this, all of us can travel together.”

“Super-together,” said Nott, re-entering the car and climbing onto Caleb’s knee. “So together, that you have to hold Kiri. So together, that I’m sitting in Caleb’s lap and Yasha’s in the trunk.”

“It is not so bad,” called a voice from the back. “It is almost roomy. And there are lots of blankets back here. Some are very pink.”

“They’re for coverin’ up the seats in the summer,” Fjord said defensively. “So they don’t get hot in the sun. Pink is good for reflectin’ heat.”

Molly grinned. “I think that would be white, dear.”

“One of them has little green roses on it,” Yasha noted.

Fjord dropped his forehead against the top of the steering wheel. “Jes made it for me,” he muttered. “It’s manly to appreciate thoughtful gifts.”

“I like it,” Yasha shrugged. “The flowers are nice.”

“Are they?” Beau piped up. “Is that…would _you_ like something like that, or—”

“Come on now, come on!” Molly cut in. “Let’s get a _move_ on! I can only handle sitting in the middle for so long. Even _if_ I’m sandwiched between two very attractive people.” This elicited a giggle from Jester, and a long sigh from Caleb.

“She has a point,” Nott nodded. “The sooner we get there, the sooner I can get out of this car.”

Fjord rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, we’re going! Jes, mind readin’ out the address so Beau can navigate?”

There was some faint rustling, as Jester squeezed her arm against Caleb’s thigh and fished around for her phone.

“Hang on, hang on, it’s…the Winter Whale Ice Rink, 37 Rockaway Lane.”

“Got it,” Beau said.

Fjord nodded. “And if any Crownsguard pull us over, I expect one of you magic folks to turn the lap-riders and Yasha invisible.”

“ _Ja, ja,_ I can do it.”

“Well then, in that case, strap in, y’all. And don’t worry, I’m a way better driver than Molly.”

“Wha— _hey!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys left SO MANY kind comments in my inbox that you motivated me to get this chapter out ASAP, albeit it's only (only?) 5k! It's an early update for this week, since I'm going away this weekend, and you can expect chapter 13 to come out next friday/saturday-ish! I'm SO EXCITED FOR WHAT'S COMING, OH MAN
> 
> And, as always, you know that Comments and Kudos keep me going, and please please consider sharing this story with a friend! It's nowhere near done, but I'm having such a good time with it and i hope you all are too! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page, and you may have heard that I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!
> 
> <33333


	13. Here's to the Mighty Nein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> featuring: shenanigans on the ice, nobody’s good at skating, a dinner with champions, planning for new year’s, fighting for honor, conversations in the snow
> 
> ( **EDIT:** this chapter now has art!!! It was done by the absolutely incredible [@sameshork](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/), who drew the most gorgeous piece [of the gang hangin' out on the ice!](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/post/180885860611/i-feel-as-if-i-should-warn-you-caleb-sighed-as) It literally made me stop being able to function for a while, y'all should take a look and give them some love!!)

“I feel as if I should warn you,” Caleb sighed as he fiddled with his laces, “I do not have the faintest idea as to what I am doing.”

Jester, kneeling on the ground to help Fjord with his own skates, giggled. “Don’t worry! I’m kind of an expert, I can teach you.”

“But you’ll still have time for me, right?” her boyfriend asked hopefully. “I don’t think I should be doing this unsupervised.”

“I can cover Caleb,” Molly cut in smoothly. “After all, what are friends for?”

“They’re for laughing at you when you embarrass yourself,” Beau smirked. She was standing off to the side, leaning against the railings with her arms crossed. “I bet you ten bucks you’ll be so distracted, you’ll fall in the first twenty minutes.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. He glanced pointedly at Yasha—who was currently lifting Kiri into the air and paying no mind to either of them—and then back to Beau.

“Only if the same rules apply to you, dear.”

She leaned in, narrowed her eyes. “You’re going _down_.”

As the two of them shared a very aggressive handshake, Caleb turned to Jester.

“Distracted?” he whispered. “Distracted by what?”

Her response was a kind pat to the knee. “Just focus on getting those skates on, Caleb.”

Nott, who had long ago figured out her own laces and was now sitting on the bench, swinging her feet back and forth like tiny, sharp pendulums, glanced idly up at Kiri. The kenku child had now been placed securely on Yasha’s shoulders, and seemed to be enjoying her new, much higher altitude.

“Are you sure you’re alright not skating?” Nott asked. “I’m sorry there weren’t any shoes that fit you.”

“Don’t worry,” Kiri said, waving a wing dismissively. “I’m not so bad myself.”

“I will take good care of her,” Yasha promised. “And as long as she holds on tight, it will feel almost like she is skating.”

Kiri trilled happily at that, eliciting a round of _awwww_ ’s from Jester and Nott. Caleb cracked a smile, and even Molly rolled his eyes in a good-natured sort of way.

But Beau tapped impatiently on her wrist, and glanced around pointedly at her friends. “Come _on_ , you guys. We’ve only got an hour and a half in the rink, let’s _go_!”

“You really know how to take the fun out of things, don’t you?” Molly sighed.

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck off,” Kiri echoed. “That’s okay.”

“No,” Caleb said wearily. “No, do not swear, you are only a child.”

If birds could pout, Kiri did. Caleb’s stern expression did not budge.

And with that, Fjord carefully stood up, wobbled a bit, then leaned onto Jester for support.

“Alright, alright, I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s get out there and, er, try to skate, I guess?

\--------------------------------------

“So far, so good!” Molly beamed, nodding enthusiastically. “Mister Caleb, I really think you’re doing it.”

“Oh, ah, is that so? Thank— _scheisse_!”

“Easy, easy, I got you.”

“ _Danke_.”

It was now Caleb and Molly’s third trip around the open-air rink, and the cold air was beginning to tickle Caleb’s cheeks, nip playfully at his nose. There were a number of other individuals here tonight, groups of friends or couples on dates that provided ample obstacles for the pair of them to avoid. But so far, this round at least, Caleb had managed to stay on his feet. This effort was aided, of course, by the fact that Molly was right there with him, slowly skating backwards, holding Caleb’s hands and keeping him steady as they traversed the ice.

Maybe it was just from the frosty temperature, but Caleb had a feeling that his cheeks had grown rather red. 

But Molly’s face, half-hidden by a vibrant rainbow scarf, was as unreadable as ever. Caleb only sort of knew how to look for blushing on tieflings, thanks to their numerous viewings of _Tusk Love_ , and those pupil-less ruby-red eyes never betrayed any hidden emotions.

Though they did flicker with amusement as Caleb lost his footing once more and collapsed again into Molly’s arms.

“ _Verzeihung_ ,” he muttered into Molly’s jacket. “I am not much of an athlete.”

Molly laughed as he helped Caleb regain his balance. “Don’t worry so much, dear. You just need practice.”

“You seem to be rather good at this,” Caleb pointed out. “How many times have you gone skating?”

“Oh, gods, I’m not even sure.” Molly carefully started moving backwards again, resuming their lazy circle around the perimeter. “I was certainly shite at this two years ago. But when I met Jester, she dragged me and Beau and Yasha out here almost every week, for a whole winter, because it was her favorite thing to do. And she isn’t kidding, she really _is_ good.”

They gently glided past Jester and Fjord. She was attempting to coach him through the proper technique for falling, giggling manically every time he made a mistake.

“You don’t say,” Caleb murmured.

“Well, you know, she’s got to have her own fun too.”

Molly waved cheerfully at the pair, and Jester grinned back brightly. Fjord was too busy looking at her to respond, his expression full of exasperation, frustration, and complete adoration.

Caleb smiled faintly as they moved away. “I am glad those two have each other.”

“Me too. I can hardly remember a time when they weren’t madly in love, now.”

“Yes, well, I can, but only because— _götterverdammt_!”

Molly carefully re-steadied Caleb. “It’s a good thing you’ve got _me_ , eh?” he joked. “Otherwise you might end up with ass-bruises, like Fjord.”

“That is…an interesting turn of phrase.”

“I’m nothing if I’m not interesting,” Molly grinned. “Stick with me, and you’ll never be bored.”

“I do not think I have much choice in that matter, _ja_? You are keeping me from ass-bruises.”

Molly was silent for a few moments. Then he squeezed Caleb’s hands, met his gaze, and just before Caleb could register the mischief twinkling in those ruby eyes, Molly quickly let go and spun back from the railing.

The world immediately fell away. Caleb felt panic, saw ice, knew fear, and then a pair of strong arms and warm body gracefully caught him, and raised him back up.

There was a moment, where both of them caught their breath.

Then Caleb blew the hair out of his face, leaned as much as he could against the railing, and raised an exasperated eyebrow.

“That was uncalled for,” he said.

Molly collapsed into a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried between laughs, “I just had to try.”

“Even after I put my _trust_ into you?”

Molly wiped a gloved finger at the corner of his eyes. “Especially after,” he grinned. “That’s what made it so fun to see.”

Caleb crossed his arms, and immediately almost fell again. He settled for gripping the walls with as much dignity as he could, and leveling a stern glare at Mollymauk.

But seeing his friend so full of laughter and mischievous delight took the edge off his annoyance. He snorted, and shook his head.

“I hope you have had your fill,” he sighed. “Because I really _am_ depending on you, at the moment.”

Molly graciously took Caleb’s hands again, squeezed them gently once more and this time, he didn’t let go.

“Of course, dear. That’s not something I take very lightly.”

\--------------------------------------

“So, uh…how’s it been going?” Beau asked, trailing after Yasha’s steady path. “I mean, uh, I haven’t seen you in a while, and then you were gone all day, today.”

“I am here now, no?” Yasha asked. She was gently gliding forwards, hands on Kiri’s more-or-less ankles to keep the little kenku steady.

“Yeah, well, yeah,” Beau said. “But I was just wondering. Like…what _do_ you get up to, when you’re not around? Just, well, just ‘cause we’re roommates now, and I need to know if you’ll be alright paying rent even when you’re not home. I mean, it’s okay if you don’t sometimes, I have money now, but like…if you wouldn’t mind _telling_ me beforehand…?”

Beau trailed off, when she noticed that Yasha had skated behind some teenagers. She immediately pushed past one of them, a scraggly-looking half-elf, and hastened to re-join her.

“Yasha?” she asked. “Yasha, were you listening to me?”

The other woman glanced over her shoulder, gave a short nod. “I did.”

“Oh,” Beau said. “And, uh…do you have an answer?”

She slowed, just slightly. Kiri seemed disappointed by their drop in speed, but tried not to show it.

“I…do not,” she said. “I am not sure how to respond.”

Beau blinked a few times. “You, uh…what?”

Yasha sighed. “When I disappear, it is because I need to go elsewhere. Before, at the Moondrop, there was nobody I needed to speak to. I could just come and go as I pleased, and I have grown used to that sort of freedom.”

“Right,” Beau said, “right, sure, but like…I mean…I kind of need a bit of a heads up, or something. Not even for, you know, not even for a money reason. You know?”

Yasha raised an eyebrow. “I…do not,” she said. “I am unsure of what you mean.”

Beau struggled to find the right words.

“It’s just…it’s just…I dunno. I mean, I…fuck, Yasha, I’d just like to know if you’re leaving me alone, for a bit. I don’t mind,” she added hastily, “really, I don’t, you’ve got shit to do and I respect that. But…I mean…if we’re living together, I just…I think…”

She took a inhaled deeply. It was cold, in this wintry night, and stung at her chest, but she forced her way through.

“I miss you, when you leave. And I don’t…I don’t like feeling that way? I just want to be prepared. You know. To feel it.”

There was a moment’s pause.

Then Yasha drew closer, just slightly. Her skates sent a breath of ice scattering up into the air, that glittered beneath the lamps and starlight.

“Beauregard?”

“Um, yeah?”

“I am sorry for hurting you."

Beau’s eyes went wide. She quickly shook her head. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

Yasha held up a hand, and Beau fell silent.

“I miss you too,” she said. “I’ll try to let you know.”

Beau wasn’t sure how to answer.

After a while, she just nodded. And for Yasha, and for the both of them, that was more than enough.

\--------------------------------------

“You know,” Caleb said as a child narrowly avoided crashing into his legs, “this is actually rather peaceful. Especially now that I have stopped falling as much.”

“For the record,” Molly grinned, “you’ve taken to this much faster than I did. It’s quite impressive, really.”

Caleb cracked a faint smile at that. “Thank you,” he said. “It is only because I have such a good teacher.”

“Why, Mister Widogast, was that a _compliment,_ or was that your way of convincing me I shouldn’t try to drop you again?”

Caleb snorted. “I do not see why they are mutually exclusive, Mister Tealeaf. I can praise a friend and also need them for support, no?”

“Well! I do love knowing you need me, dear.”

Then Molly hesitated, and leaned in, and in a much softer tone, added:

“It’s, er, it’s also nice to know that you think of me as a friend.”

Caleb blinked a few times. “I…well, I…yes. We have been through a lot together, _ja_? And I…I quite enjoy your company. And we have gotten to know each other, about our pasts and our presents, so I thought…yes, I thought we had reached that point.”

There was the briefest pause. Then Molly winked.

It was a silly gesture, probably meant to be suave, but it was so sudden, so bizarre, and Molly’s other eye went distractedly squinty as he grinned.

Caleb, against all expectations, found this endearing.

“You are a very ridiculous person, you know. And I am glad we have met.”

“Me—well, me too, dear. I’m glad you stuck around silly little me.”

“Again, I need you to keep me from falling.”

Molly laughed. “And, of course, I must be a positive influence on you. After all, you could stand to be a bit more ridiculous yourself, right?”

“Then perhaps we _should_ stick around one another a bit more,” Caleb nodded sagely. “And I will wait to see if you rub off on me.”

Molly’s feet went scattering off in two different directions as he fell.

Caleb, hands gripped tightly with his, went down too.

They both hit the ice hard. Thankfully their skates didn’t catch either of them, and Caleb was fairly sure nothing was popped or broken, but the dazed expression plastered across Molly’s face was mildly concerning.

He carefully untangled their arms and waved a hand in front of Molly’s eyes. “Mollymauk?” he asked. “Mollymauk, are you alright?”

Molly blinked. He turned towards Caleb and shook his head in disbelief.

“Are you _aware_ of the words that come out of your mouth?”

Now it was Caleb’s turn to look blank. “Excuse me?” he asked.

Molly sighed. He put on a smile, reached for the railing, and hoisted himself up. “Nevermind, dear, let’s get back to it! You were doing so well, and everything.”

\--------------------------------------

“You’re an evil genius,” Fjord said as Jester helped him to his feet again. “You _knew_ this would happen, didn’t you?”

“What- _ever_ are you talking about, Oskar?”

“I’m talkin’ about our friends,” Fjord said, eyebrow raising. “You knew they would do this, you monster.”

Jester giggled, and brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said. “I’m just a little tiefling with no devious plans at all.”

“Really?” Fjord asked. “So you didn’t think that Beau would immediately chase after Yasha the second we got onto the ice, and you didn’t know Molly would instantly volunteer to teach Caleb to skate? And that would mean they’d have to hold hands and stay together an entire evenin’ at close quarters?”

“Nope!” Jester said cheerfully. “I didn’t, at all. And I didn’t even think about how _we’d_ be able to spend time together, all alone, and I’d get to watch you fall over a bunch. That thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

Fjord sighed, and took her hands again. “Well,” he said, voice lowering. “Joke’s on you, Jes. I’m gonna become an expert at this, and suck the joy right outta ‘ya.”

Jester poked him in the nose, and shook her head. “Oskar, if you can become an expert ice skater, I’ll swear off pastries for a _month_. That’s how little I believe in you.”

“Aw, really?” he pouted. “No loving words of support from my dear, _beautiful_ girl?”

She grinned, poked him again. “I’m already holding your hand, silly. Isn’t that all the support you need?”

\--------------------------------------

“It was nice to see how well the others took to this,” Caleb noted as they made one last gently trip around the rink. “Especially the _Küken._ ”

“Er…the what?” Molly asked.

Caleb pointed towards Yasha, Beau, taking care not to lose his balance. “The _Küken_ ,” he repeated. “Our little friend.”

Molly followed his gaze across the ice, and immediately felt a tug at his heartstrings.

Kiri was still perched atop Yasha’s shoulders. But now she was also leaning forwards, eyes closed, her stubby black wings extended as far out as she could reach. Her dark feathers caught the sweet evening breeze and drifted through the quiet air as if she were a bird in flight. Her expression was serene. She trilled softly with a happiness no one could begin to describe.

During the last few weeks, Mollymauk had been fighting losing battle against loneliness and encroaching cynicism.

But right now, in this moment, he felt himself crack a smile.

“You know, we really have gotten closer because of her,” he murmured. “Even without her really doing anything.”

“How could we not have?” Caleb chuckled. “She is the best of us.”

Molly grinned, and squeezed his hand. “She really is,” he sighed. “She really, truly, is.”

\--------------------------------------

“Gods,” Beau breathed, “it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It is like watching an angel,” Caleb agreed softly. “An angel on ice.”

“I don’t get it,” Fjord grunted. “I just…how is she _doing_ that?”

Their hour-and-a-half was nearly up now, and most of the group had gathered around the gate to exit the rink. But they had stopped, and turned, and were now watching, mouths agape, as they witnessed the culmination of Nott the Brave’s time spent practicing by herself. She spun, she twirled, she practically _soared_ across the ice. Her bandages billowed in the wind and her hood rippled behind her, but she was moving so fast and so gracefully that nobody could really notice her more goblinoid features. She wove between two couples, pirouetted around some children, and with one last flourish, slid to a graceful stop right in front of her friends.

For a moment, they all stood there together in silence.

Then everyone burst into applause. Jester cheered loudly, Beau pumped a fist into the air, Molly whistled enthusiastically, and Caleb’s face was an unrestrained display of pride and amazement.

Nott’s cheeks went a slightly darker shade of green. She took a bow.

“Are you _sure_ you’ve never done this before?” Fjord asked when she resurfaced. “That looked _professional_.”

Nott’s face colored even more, but her grin could have lit the night sky. “Beginner’s luck?” she shrugged.

Caleb reached over clumsily and ruffled her hair. “That was incredible, _spatz_! I would pick you up and hug you, but I would definitely fall over if I tried.”

“I could do it, if you need,” Yasha offered.

Nott waved him off bashfully. “That’s okay,” she giggled. “It’s fine. But, you know, you guys, I think I might really like ice skating.” She turned towards Jester. “Thanks for asking us to do this.”

“Oh, _absolutely_ ,” Molly grinned. “This was brilliant, dear.”

“This is actually really good so far,” Kiri agreed.

Now it was Jester’s turn to blush.  “Aw, you guys, it’s only fun ‘cause you’re all here too!”

“But you did it,” Caleb smiled. “You are the one who got us together.”

“It’s a shame we have to leave,” Molly sighed. “Just when things were getting good.”

“Well, hang on,” Fjord chimed in, “we don’t _have_ to stop hanging out. We could…go get dinner or something, together. I’m sure there are plenty of restaurants around.”

Nott nodded slowly. “All that skating _did_ make me pretty hungry,” she said, tugging on Caleb’s sleeve.

“And I’m totally down,” Beau grinned. “Why stop the party now, right?”

“I don’t say this often, but she’s right!” Molly declared, wrapping an arm around Beau’s shoulders and causing her to make a very disgusted expression. “The night is young!” He turned excitedly towards the rest. “Come on, come on, what do you say?”

\--------------------------------------

“This sucks,” Nott grumbled, swinging the car door shut behind her. “Fjord, you need a bigger car.”

“I usually don’t have _this_ many passengers,” he sighed. “And for good reason.”

“You’ll warm up faster with more people around you,” Beau said. “Lighten up.”

“Easy for you to say,” Nott shot back, “ _you’re_ in the front. You don’t have to share a lap with Caleb.”

“ _Share_ a lap?”

“Molly’s tail keeps hitting my knees. And his horns are getting into my space.”

“Well, I’m _so_ sorry that my unique physiology is such a burden to you."

“I don’t care about physogy, just get your dumb body away from me.”

“How dare—this body is not _dumb_ , it is a work of _art_ that I spent countless hours perfecting.”

“Yeah, well you should spend more hours—”

Fjord turned around in the driver’s seat and glared at them both. “Knock it off, you two. Or I swear, I’ll come back there and _make_ you.”

Molly and Nott exchanged begrudging glances. They agreed to a reluctant, temporary truce.

“ _Danke_ ,” Caleb called. His voice muffled by the back of Nott’s jacket. “I thought I was going to die, just now.”

Fjord sighed, and put his hands back on the wheel. “You’re…welcome. Gods, I’m not old enough to be doin’ this.”

\--------------------------------------

The Blushing Tankard was a large establishment, with warmth spilling out from behind the windows and thousands of twinkling New Dawn lights strung up along the roof. A bright neon sign above the entrance proclaimed that Happy Hour had begun, and during their cursory drive-by, Beau had pulled up a local review that promised top-notch service. So Fjord eventually managed to find a parking spot down the block, and the gang all left the car excitedly to make their way to dinner.

After meandering about the entrance for a couple minutes, they finally realized that they were supposed to seat themselves. Fjord and Jester went off to the bar to order, while the rest of them occupied a large booth at the back.

Acquiring food was going…interestingly.

“But it could be worse,” Yasha noted, watching Jester throw herself across the counter and glare at the barkeep. “Nobody has died yet.”

“Yet,” Beau sighed. “There’s still time.”

“I believe in her,” Molly said. “She’s gotten a lot better at restraint, lately.”

“Does this always happen when people flirt with Fjord?” Nott asked. “Do her eyes always do that?”

“You should’ve seen what she did when _I_ first tried to seduce him. She called me quite a few choice words in Infernal.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “And then what happened?”

Molly shrugged, and leaned into the backrest. “And then I started bleeding. And then we became best friends. Oh, they’re coming back now, be normal.”

Fjord was the first to slide into an unoccupied section of bench, and instantly dropped his elbows to the table and buried his head beneath his hands. “Food’s on the way,” he mumbled. “First round of drinks is free, and Beau, you’ve got extra bacon on your burger.”

“ _Hell_ yeah, how’d you manage that?”

He sunk down even further. “The bartender was sweet on me,” he muttered. “But then—”

“Look, I didn’t _mean_ it,” Jester sighed, sliding in after him. “It was a power play, and it didn’t even work.”

Molly blinked, and turned towards Jester. “What did you _say_ , dear?”

She shrugged. “I told the bartender that she wasn’t good enough to be with Fjord, ‘cause he’d already been with the Ruby of the Sea.”

“Who is your _mother_ , Jes.”

“I know, I know! But it was supposed to be a compliment.”

“That’s actually a good point,” Beau said supportively. “Most of the time it’s an insult, you know, if you say you’ve slept with someone’s mom. But with you, it’s different.”

“Yeah,” Jester nodded, “’cause most people who sleep with her are super-duper rich.”

Caleb raised a hand, like he wanted to ask a question but was too impatient to be called on. “Are…is…Jester, is your mother a…a woman of the night?”

Jester’s eyes went wide. “Wait, do you not know who the Ruby is?”

“Of course he doesn’t know who she is,” Beau muttered. “He’s a _choir_ boy.”

“Yes, but you should hear a choir boy _sing_ —” Molly began cheekily, but Jester waved him off.

“My mother is a _courtesan_ ,” she said, poking Caleb in the arm. “A fancy one, too. The fanciest. And she’s super pretty, and talented, and people come from all over the coast to go see her.”

“Is that where she lives, then?” Nott asked. “On the beach?”

“ _Near_ the beach. I used to live there too, until I got kicked out.”

“ _Kicked out_?” Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “Your mother kicked you _out_?”

“No, no, of course not! My momma loves me _so_ much. No, I got, um…in trouble with a really rich lord, who threatened to kill me,” Jester said, in a tone that really did not match the content. “So- _oo_ , my momma said that I should go, for my own safety. You know, so I wouldn’t die. But it’s okay! Because now, I’m out here, and I’m trying to find my dad—”

“ _Bitte_ , find your _what_ —”

“—my dad, and I also met you guys and got a boyfriend along the way. It’s almost a win-win.”

“But…but you can’t go home?” Caleb asked quietly. “You are forced to stay here?”

Jester shrugged. “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s better than dying, and there’s a such thing as video calls, you know.”

“ _Ja_ , but it is not the same.”

“It’s good enough,” Jester said defensively. “It’s fine.”

“But…are you not homesick?”

She shot him a smile, that didn’t quite fit.

“What can I do, if I am?”

Caleb paused. He opened his mouth, closed it again, unsure of what to say. And just at that moment, the bartender arrived at their table with her arms stacked full with trays of food and a wide grin across her face.

“Good evenin’ to you all!” she called. “I believe I had an order for you lot, placed by a _fine_ young gentleman of the orcish persuasion?”

Fjord sheepishly raised his hand. “That, uh, that would be us.”

The bartender beamed. “I’m Ireena Clawmop, dears. It’s my _pleasure_ to serve you, this evenin’. Now! Who got the…house burger, double meat, no vegetables, curly fries on the side?”

“Me!” Nott grinned, waved her arm. “Ooh, I’m _so_ excited to eat.”

Ireena laughed and passed the plate over. “Now _that’s_ what I like to hear, you…strange, green girl?”

“It’s a glandular condition,” Nott said, eyeing up her sandwich and only half-paying attention. “I’m actually a halfling.”

“Is that right? Well, as long as you’re payin’, I won’t say a word. Now, blue cheese burger, hold the tomato, extra bacon…”

\--------------------------------------

“Have any of you guys got plans for New Dawn, yet?” Jester asked between bites. “’Cause Fjord and I were thinking that maybe we could have a party at our apartment.” Then she paused. “ _Our_ apartment,” she repeated giddily.

Fjord grinned and stole a piece of her pie crust.

“I haven’t got anything coming up,” Molly shrugged. “And I doubt the Moondrop will have recovered enough in two weeks to have any big events.”

Yasha nodded her agreement. There was barbecue sauce on her chin.

“I’m game.” Beau reached for the ketchup bottle. “Count me in.”

“I believe Nott and I are free as well,” Caleb added, looking to her for input. “Neither of us have really celebrated the new year, but—”

“You _what_?” Jester cut him off. “ _Never_?”

“Goblins don’t care about that sort of thing,” Nott said. “Our holidays are different.”

“Really?” Beau raised an eyebrow. “What are they, then?”

Nott tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well…we have ceremonies for when a brood is given their official clan jobs. We celebrate new leaders when they kill the old ones. And…once we threw a big party because a flock of sheep fell through the ground and into our tunnels. That was definitely the most exciting one.”

There was a brief moment of silence that followed. Then Molly cleared his throat and turned to Caleb. “What about you, dear? Did you not celebrate any winter holidays, where you were from?”

“Oh, we did,” Caleb grunted, “but it has been a long time since _I_ have. Or since I have had people to celebrate them with.”

“How come?” Jester asked. “Are you not allowed to go home, either?”

His expression darkened. He started poking at his fries. It was Nott, and surprisingly _Beauregard_ , who tried to intervene.

“Hey, let’s—”

“Why don’t we talk—”

They both stopped. They stared at each other for a few beats, until Nott made a _go on_ , gesture.

“What, uh…what sort of decorations and stuff do we need?” Beau asked. “I can help get all that together.”

“Oooh, really?” Jester gushed immediately distracted. “I didn’t even think about that, Fjord! We haven’t decorated for New Dawn, yet!”

“I think maybe we should focus on getting furniture first,” he said weakly. “Priorities, Jes.”

“Decorations _are_ important, though,” Molly said. “They help make the holidays feel like the holidays.”

“And traditions,” Yasha said quietly. “Holiday traditions are also important.”

“Ooh, me and my momma used to eat a ton of food and sing songs and stay up until midnight,” Jester said happily. “That was _my_ favorite thing to do.”

“Drinking,” Fjord chimed in. “We’d go drinking.”

“Gods, I wish that’s what _we_ did,” Beau grumbled. “ _My_ parents always threw this huge fucking party, full of rich business people and uptight assholes. I ditched as soon as I could, every year.”

“We would slaughter and roast and entire boar,” Yasha volunteered. “And then we would eat it.”

This was followed by very a long pause.

“I am joking,” Yasha said, when their silence started to get uncomfortable. “It was not a boar.”

“As, er, incredibly interesting as killing and eating an animal sounds,” Molly said eventually, “I think it could be hard for us to pull that off in an apartment building. Best to stick to glazed ham, yes?”

“I like ham,” Nott said. “Or any meat, really.”

Caleb carefully raised a hand. “I, ah, I actually might have a tradition we could do. One that does not involve fire code violations and questionable behavior.”

“That seems sort of off-brand,” Fjord pointed out. “But shoot, I guess.”

Caleb immediately started rummaging through his bag. After a few seconds, he produced a piece of paper and a pen. He pushed his plate aside and slapped the paper down in its place, started writing something down.

Beau groaned. “Ugh, Caleb, is this a _test_?”

“I didn’t study,” Molly added with a grin.

Caleb sighed, and held the page up for them all to see. He had written their names on it, evenly spaced in crisp, neat letters.

“This is called 'Wichteln',” he explained. “We used to do it every year as a neighborhood. All our names go into a hat, and each person goes around and picks one. Then, whoever’s name you receive, you have to buy them a present. It does not have to be a large gift, but something you think they would like. The catch is, you cannot say who you have until New Dawn, when the gift exchange happens.”

He glanced around at his friends. “Does, er, does that sound interesting?”

Jester’s eyes were practically sparkling. “ _Secret_ presents?! Caleb, that sounds _so_ fun!”

“I’ve never heard of that before,” Beau nodded, “but I like it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Molly grinned. “Generosity and subterfuge are two of my most favorite things.”

Yasha and Fjord both nodded as well, but Nott leaned over and tapped the page worriedly.

“It hasn’t got Kiri’s name on it,” she pointed out. “Does that mean Kiri won’t get a present?”

Caleb’s grin faltered. “Oh, er… _verzeihung_. I thought perhaps since she was a child, she would not want to buy others a gift, so…”

“Don’t worry Kiri!” Jester said, waving her hands quickly. “You don’t have to get anybody anything! We’ll just buy you presents ‘cause we love you so much!”

“Really?” Kiri asked, in Jester’s voice.

“Of course!” She glared pointedly at the rest. “ _Right_?”

All of them instantly crumpled under her harsh gaze.

“Oh, definitely,” Molly nodded. “We’ll definitely do that.”

Kiri trilled happily. “Welcome to the gang!”

“You know,” Fjord said, “we really should teach her some other phrases. So that she’s not workin’ with the weird-ass stuff we’ve _been_ sayin’ this whole time.”

“We would slaughter and roast an entire boar,” Kiri agreed, and Molly turned around to have his mild laughing fit off to the side.

Jester clapped her hands. “Okay, Kiri!” she declared. “How about this? When somebody asks you what your name is, you say ‘I am Kiri!’”

“I am Kiri!”

“Alright, alright…now, if someone asks if you’re nice, you say ‘Yes, I’m very sweet!’”

“Yes, I’m very sweet!"

“And if someone tells you to do something you don’t like, you say ‘Go _fuck_ yourself!’”

“Go _fuck_ yourself!”

“Goodness,” said Ireena as she set another round down on their table. “There’s a quite a mouth on that one, eh?”

“Yes, I’m very sweet!”

Fjord sighed, and started helping her move drinks around. “Sorry about that,” he said. “She’s very impressionable.”

“I can see that,” Ireena grinned. “Is that why you brought her to a bar?”

Beau raised her glass. “If she learns about alcohol early, she’ll get a better respect for it.”

“We are bad parents,” Caleb explained.

Ireena laughed at that, and hefted her empty tray into the air. “Well, if you decide on being even worse influences tonight, stick around for about another, oh…twenty, twenty-five minutes? The Hour of Honor could always use some fresh faces.”

Molly’s ears immediately perked up. “The Hour of Honor?”

Ireena’s smile turned wicked. She leaned in, “You lot haven’t been here before, have you?”

“No, miss,” Molly grinned. “But if this event is what I think it is, we might start having a reason to come back.”

“Ha! Good man! Er…man?”

“No, dear. I hold my drink better than any man could.”

She clapped him on the shoulder and nodded. “Good on you, I suppose.” Then she grinned to the rest and added, “Stick around, you lot. And take it easy on those beers if you plan on participating!”

\--------------------------------------

“Ooooh!” Jester waved her slip of paper excitedly in the air. “Oh, I am _so_ happy, Beau, you’re going to love—”

The rest groaned, and Caleb stuck Fjord’s hat back out. “Put it back,” he sighed. “And please, _please_ , try not to give away who you got.”

Molly nodded sympathetically. “I understand the temptation, dear, but remember: the holidays are all about hiding things from your friends.”

“ _Is_ that what they’re about?” Fjord asked suspiciously. “Are you certain?”

“Trust me,” Molly nodded. “I’m a holiday expert, I know all about it.”

“How could you?” Beau demanded. “This is only, like, your _second_ New Dawn, isn’t it?”

Molly’s gaze instantly solidified into a mask of brilliant cheer. Caleb was too busy shuffling the names to notice the way the tiefling’s eyes briefly flickered over towards him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear,” Molly said through a gritted smile. “I’ve been celebrating this holiday since I was born.”

Beau got the message. She even looked mildly apologetic, which was pretty good, all things considered.

Nott, on the other hand, had her eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean, by that?” she asked slowly. “What do you mean, it’s only your _second_ —”

She was cut off, as the sound of a booming gong suddenly silenced all conversation in the tavern. They all turned towards the source of the noise and saw Ireena, standing up on the bar, a microphone in hand and her neckline somehow even lower than it had been before.

She smiled a smile of wicked delight.

“Good _evening_ , welcomed guests! Could I _kindly_ ask for your lecherous gazes upon this ample and _available_ specimen of a woman?”

This was met with a few whistles, a couple catcalls. Ireena not-very-bashfully waved them off.

“Tonight, as you regular bastards would know, is the Hour of Honor! Tonight, we battle for glory! We battle for fame! We battle for the title of the Champions of Drinking, in a test of iron stomachs and steel-hard wills! Tonight, we _drink_! Now, who here thinks they’re brave enough, _tough_ enough, to take on our drunk defenders?”

As the members of the crowd behind them started calling out names and standing up, Molly slapped his hands against their table and leaned in towards all his friends.

“I don’t ask for much,” he said quietly, “but _please_ tell me, you’re all thinking what I’m thinking?”

Beau slammed her glass down, and cracked her knuckles. “We are gonna take those fuckers _down_.”

\--------------------------------------

“And who might _you_ lot be?”

Molly hesitated. He glanced down at their table, and shrugged in a _we-didn’t-think-this-far-ahead_ sort of gesture.

He gave Ireena a darling smile. “One moment,” he said.

Then he ducked back down and they all huddled up, whispering frantically, swearing occasionally. After a few seconds filled with their arguing, and the rustling sounds of a bar growing impatient, Caleb’s head popped back up.

He raised his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“We are…the Mighty Nein.”

There was a pause.

Ireena leaned in and murmured, “There are only five competitors allowed, dear.”

“Oh, no, it is Zemnian. ‘Nein’ actually means—”

Without waiting for him to finish, she shot back up and turned around and stretched her arms out to the rest of the bar in a grand, sweeping gesture.

“Please welcome, our colorful newcomers, The _Mighty_ Nein! Give our challengers a round of applause, and let’s hope they can hold their drink!”

\--------------------------------------

“The fuck kind of name was _that_?” Beau whispered. In the foreground, Molly slammed his third drink down onto the table and grinned at his opponent, a stout gnomish gentleman called Duncan.

Caleb shrugged. “It was the first thing I thought of. And, I don’t know, it just seemed appropriate.”

“There aren’t even nine of us.”

“Nein does not mean _nine_ , it means—"

Molly suddenly leapt to his feet, pointed and cackled at Duncan, who had collapsed onto the tabletop. “I’ve won!” he shouted, waving his arms around unsteadily, but in triumph. “I beat him! First round goes to us!”

The crowd burst into cheers, yelling both in delight and disappointment as Duncan was cleared away. A young, wiry little gnome boy with glasses took his seat.

“Who’s next?” he asked pleasantly.

Caleb immediately pushed past Beau and sat down at the competition table.

“ _Ja, hallo_ ,” he said. “My name is Caleb Widogast, nice to meet you.”

His opponent extended a hand.

“I’m Valkin. May the best gnome win.”

\--------------------------------------

“He doesn’t have it,” Yasha sighed. “Look at his face.”

“I believe in him!” Nott whispered urgently. “He’s tougher than he looks.”

\-------------------------------------

Jester clapped her hands together, and suddenly whispers stared swelling through the crowd, just one word, over and over, a chant that grew and grew until everyone present was pounding their fists and stomping their feet and screaming:

_Beau! Beau! Beau! Beau! Beau!_

\-------------------------------------

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Fjord said, leaning in close and winking with a grin. “I just got distracted by your _beautiful_ visage.”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Ireena called, waving a finger threateningly at Tanya. “He’s _mine_.”

\-------------------------------------

“Wait!”

Like a rising hill of coal dust and grime, O’l Blemmy rose from his seat at the defender’s table.

“I haven’t competed yet!”

Fjord, now extremely drunk and leaning against the bar for support, kicked Nott in the back of her knees.

“Go get ‘im!” he said. “You’re Nott the Brave, right? You drink like there’s no tomorrow, right?”

“I, um, I’m only one of those things,” she said nervously. “Right now, I’m not even sure which one.”

“It is _fine_ , _spatz_!” Caleb slurred, similarly draped over the counter. “You can do it, you are unstoppable!”

“You’re the ringer, dear,” Molly grinned. He was only slightly more put-together than the rest, wearing the widest, brightest, most shit-eating grin imaginable. “Go on, go show that old dwarf who’s boss!”

\--------------------------------------

“What’s _this_ , then? A little girl?”

“Um…hello. Let’s, uh, let’s get drinking, right?”

\--------------------------------------

The bar cheered as Nott downed her last flagon and slammed it against the table. Then a terrible hush fell over her and onlookers alike, as they leaned in close towards O’l Blemmy, watched him finish his drink.

There was a moment, where his tankard clinked against the tabletop. He glared daggers at Nott.

“Y…y’think y’got what it t—”

And then he slumped over the table, head thunking against the wood.

Ireena leapt down from her perch on the bar stool, ran over towards Nott, threw her hands in the air and bellowed, “We’ve got our champions! Here’s to the Mighty Nein, our new Champions of Drinking!”

The bar exploded in celebration. People stomped their feet against the wooden floors and banged their mugs against the wooden counters, they jeered as Ol’ Blemmy and his crew grabbed their coats and left, and shouted the names of the winners with wild, ecstatic, joy-filled abandon.

_Here’s to the Mighty Nein! Here’s to the Mighty Nein! Here’s to the MIGHTY NEIN!_

\--------------------------------------

In the comparative silence that followed, as Jester went up to the bathrooms to search for Fjord, and Beau excused herself to go throw up in an alley, Mollymauk wandered his way over to Caleb.

He was off at a table in the corner, grinning dazedly into a cup of water and humming faintly to himself. Nott was sitting next to him, inexplicably drinking more alcohol. Across from them was Yasha, speaking quietly to Kiri, giggling when the bird would echo her words.

“I hope you aren’t teaching our charge more swears, dear,” Molly grinned as he stopped before them. “I think Jester might already be bad an influence enough.”

Yasha chuckled. “I was seeing if she could speak other languages. Look, show Mollymauk what I taught you.”

Kiri cooed, then turned to Molly and opened her beak.

The sound that came next started slowly, like a distant hum, played back through a foggy memory. But as her breath continued, it grew brighter, and stronger, curled through the air and brushed against his cheeks and whispered promises of safety and warmth—

And then Kiri stopped. She chirped a few times, evidently quite proud of herself.

“Isn’t she good?” Yasha beamed. “What a good bird, you are.”

“Yes, I’m very sweet.”

Caleb, still nursing his water, cracked a smile. “Definitely the best of us,” he murmured, then he grinned up at Molly. “Are you here to join? We are out of chairs, but I am sure you could find _somewhere_ to sit, eh?”

Molly, already addled himself, struggled so hard to properly interpret this that he ignored it completely.

“Actually,” he said, “I wanted to steal you alone for a bit. There’s something I wanted to tell you, and I think now might be the only time I’d be brave enough to do it.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Is…everything alright, Mister Mollymauk?”

Molly snorted. “I sure hope so. Follow me?”

As he helped Caleb get up and steady himself, Nott frowned and leaned in closer to Yasha.

“What do you think he wants to say?” she murmured. “It’s not…it’s not going to be a _confession_ or something, is it?”

Yasha watched their retreating backs. “I am…not sure,” she murmured. “It would not be his style to do that now. But if I am being honest, nothing he has done with Caleb so far, has been usual.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Yasha watched Molly carefully guide Caleb outside, and grab both their coats off the rack on the way.

“Yes,” she said eventually. “I think...it is.”

\--------------------------------------

“Mister Caleb, it’s occurred to me recent...recently, that I haven’t been all that honest with you.”

Caleb blinked. He stared out into the streets, and frowned.

“What…do you mean?”

The two of them were outside now, alone in the winter night as a few stray snowflakes drifted down from the skies. They leaned against the corner wall of The Blushing Tankard, just beside the mouth to the neighboring alley, securely tucked away from the windows of the bar but still silhouetted by the light of its glowing neon sign.

Their shoulders were pressed closely together. Partially for warmth, partially because they were drunk and needed all the help they could get.

“I, er…I lied to you, when we were getting coffee,” Molly said slowly. “When, when you asked me about my past, and things?”

“Your past, and thing?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Oh. Er…what did you say?”

“I told you some shite about my parents, or something. I think I told you they were swords-people.”

“Oh. Were they not?”

Molly shrugged. “Dunno. I can’t remember.”

There were a few beats of silence.

“You cannot…remember?”

Days of agonizing inner turmoil had led up to this moment.

"Yes,” Molly sighed. “Alright. Here...here we go."

He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes.

“I woke up...two years ago, in a hole in the ground, somewhere, somewhere…in the woods. Crawled out, stumbled around, ‘til Gustav and Desmond found me, took me in. Apparently for the first few months, all I did was wander around in a trance, not talking, not really emot…emot—having feelings. Just goin’ through the motions of life.”

He opened his eyes. He gazed up at the stars through the breaks in the buildings.

“Eventually, I started talking. They said the life came back to me. And I can remember some of those days, I can remember living backstage at the Moondrop. Helping with makeup and watchin’ the performances on Gustav’s little table. Tablet. Then I started t’participate. They said I was good at singing, so I sang. And every day was a _beautiful_ day, because I had the people I loved at my side. My life was _full_. Of music, and colors, and warmth, and my friends. “

Molly leaned his horns back against the side of the building.

“Can you imagine what it would feel like to not care about anything that had happened to you? Do you know what it’s like to have _nothing_? To be _no_ one? I did. But that’s why I don’t care about who I might've been. Whoever that was, was some asshole, who got buried in the dirt. _Fuck_ him. I’m enjoying what I’m doing now. Anything that came before, I’m happy to just leave it alone. Because all I want, _all_ I want, is the freedom to be _me_.”

Molly slowly let the air flow out of his lungs. He looked back down at the streets around them, at the hard pavement beneath his feet.

“That’s all,” he sighed. “That’s all I wanted to say. I’m sorry...I’m sorry for hiding the truth. I was just worried it might, I don’t know, change the way you felt about me, though I suppose I’d understand if it—”

And then, something extraordinary happened.

Molly felt a pair of arms slide around his waist. He felt a chin lean against his shoulder, and a shock of ginger hair brush against his cheek.

“It is alright,” Caleb murmured.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Molly fought hard to swallow. “W-what?” he managed.

“It is alright,” Caleb repeated softly. His lips were so close, they brushed against Molly’s ear.

“I…are you sure?”

Caleb nodded. “It does not matter who you were. Who that other you was. Or not you. _You_ are, are… _you,_ are Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

“But I…wasn’t, before. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Caleb shrugged. “I believe in second starts,” he said. “You are who you say you are, you are who I have seen you be. And that is good enough for me.”

Molly was terrified that if he moved, he would ruin this moment. But slowly, ever so slowly, he managed to bring a hand up, and place it gently on Caleb’s head.

“I…ah…thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

They stood there, bodies pressed close together, alone in the gentle snow, for a just few moments longer.

And then Caleb said:

“I am very drunk.”

Molly started to giggle. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, me too.”

Caleb took up the laughter as well when he broke away, shook his head and clapped his hand against Molly’s arm.

“ _Danke_ , for trusting me with this,” he said. “You were right. You _are_ my friend.”

Molly tried to think of something to say.

There was  _so much_ to say.

And then the door to the bar opened. Nott poked her head through, silhouetted by the warm light beyond, her yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. She almost immediately spotted the two of them standing off to the side, and waved her hand to get their attention.

“Hey!” she called. “Hey, Jester says we’ve got to head out now. Bar’s gonna close, soon.”

Caleb sighed. Slowly, he let his hand fall away from Molly. “That is the cue, _ja_?”

Molly stared at the doorway. He stared at Caleb.

“Go on ahead,” he said quietly. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Caleb shrugged. “Okay, then. See you inside.”

Molly watched him walk away, beam at Nott, scoop her up into his arms and carry her back on inside.

The light faded, as the door swung shut.

And then distantly, as if not entirely in control of his own body, Molly reached into his chest pocket.

He produced a tiny slip of paper.

He unfolded it, albeit a bit clumsily, and held it up to the glowing red light of the neon sign.

He read:

“Caleb Widogast.”

He shook his head slowly, slid the name back beside his heart.

“Caleb Widogast,” he murmured again. “Caleb, fucking, Widogast.”

He leaned back against the brick wall. He crossed his arms, and watched the snow drift down for a few more moments, before drawing his coat up around his shoulders, and heading back inside.

\--------------------------------------

“You all are _such_ babies,” Jester sighed, carefully shoving her friends into the back of Fjord’s car like large, drunk, giggly sardines. “You’re lucky I’m here, otherwise nobody would be around to take care of you.”

“I feel fine,” Nott volunteered. “I feel totally normal.”

Jester grinned, and slammed the door shut. Then she hopped into the driver’s seat, and turned the ignition.

“Good,” she said. “That means you’re in charge of making sure your son doesn’t choke on his own puke and die tonight.”

\--------------------------------------

The next morning, Beau awoke to the gentle sunlight streaming in through her window, caressing her cheeks and warming her face.

It was only until she finished dragging herself out of bed, dragging herself to and from the bathroom, dragging herself into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, did it occur to her that she should probably charge her phone.

She made her way back into the bedroom, fished around, produced her cell.

And then she paused.

She peered closer into her bag.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:03AM

 **Drunkmonk:** SOMEONE IS GOING TO DIE  
**Drunkmonk:** SOMEONE IS GOING TO FUCKING DIE  
**Drunkmonk:** WHO DID IT  
**Drunkmonk:** TEALEAF IS THIS SOME KIND OF PRANK  
**Drunkmonk:** I SWEAR TO FUCK IM GONNA CUT A BITCH  
**Lavender Thunder:** ah  
**Lavender Thunder:** i see youve made the same discovery this morning  
**Lavender Thunder:** I can assure you that it wasn’t me  
**Lavender Thunder:** because it appears my wallet is missing as well  
**Seaman:** and mine  
**NottSoBrave:** and caleb’s  
**NottSoBrave:** um  
**NottSoBrave:** what now????  
**Seaman:** hang tight  
**Seaman:** ill come pick you up  
**Seaman:** I think its time we had some words with some people  
**Seaman:** startin with the lovely folks running that bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THINGS! ARE! GETTING! CRAZY!!!!!
> 
> Of course, thank you so so much for reading! Comments and Kudos keep me going, and please please consider sharing this story with a friend! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page, and you may have heard that I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!
> 
> <33333


	14. Catching Cinders in the Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: hunt for the wallets, beau makes a choice, the boxcar children, a visit to prison, I hurt caleb (but not as bad as I did last time)

“I almost feel like a hypocrite,” Nott said as she nudged Caleb’s scarf out of her face. “I mean, _I_ steal all the time.”

“That is true,” he conceded, “but you have never stolen a wallet. You took unimportant things, like loose change and jewelry.”

“You might need to reevaluate your definition of ‘important’,” Fjord sighed. He was leaning forward in the driver’s seat, peering up at a stoplight with his foot on the brakes. “What if some of that jewelry meant something?”

“He has a point,” Molly chimed in. “What if you stole an engagement ring? Or a gift from a friend? Or a something that belonged to a dead relative?”

The resulting heavy silence suggested that Nott had never considered this before.

“Maybe we should go easy on the extra income,” Caleb said weakly, after a few beats. “We are doing fine now, as is.”

“Just say the word!” Jester chimed in from their right. Her face was half-smooshed against the car window. “I’ve still got more friends who might want a tutor. There’s still Cali, and I _bet_ Keg could use some—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Beau cut in. “I just…I _gotta_ ask again. Yasha, _why_ did you bring the sword?”

The whole group, minus Fjord, turned their focus to the object that dominated most of the middle of the car. It was a thick mass of cloth, badly shielding them from the blade of Yasha’s massive greatsword. It stretched out from the trunk space next to her, had its bottom half carefully positioned between Caleb and Molly’s necks, and tapered off to an end at the front of the vehicle beside Beau.

Yasha shrugged. “I brought it in case we needed to fight something. The people who stole your things may get violent.”

“We have a _wizard_ ,” Beau said. “I’m sure he could take care of it.”

“Exactly!” said Nott at the same time that Caleb said, “No, probably no.”

“You need to have some more faith in yourself,” Molly teased. “I’m sure you’d do just fine.”

“I am not a close-quarters kind of fighter,” was the muttered response. “If they get the first hit in, I can assure you I would not last long.”

“Speakin’ of long,” Fjord said as the light finally went green, “how much farther to Silver Falls Street? And how’re we supposed to know which house is O’l Blemmy’s?”

“Two minutes, just keep goin’ straight,” Beau supplied. “Also, I thought we could go door-to-door and interrogate all the neighbors. Ireena said that would work.”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “I thought she was kidding.”

“I doubt they’d give him up just like that,” Molly added.

Beau shrugged. “When they see that fuckin’ sword, I _bet_ they will.”

“They would most likely call the police,” Caleb sighed. “I just wish I had some sort of spell that could assist in this circumstance. Like…a honing cantrip, or some kind of ritual to locate—”

“Object!” Jester suddenly shot upwards, which meant she hit Caleb’s cheek with her horns and whacked an elbow against the door, though she seemed completely unfazed by it. “Locate object!” she yelled. “That’s a spell, that’s a spell I have!”

“That’s _what_?” Beau demanded. “Jes, why didn’t you cast it earlier?”

“I forgot.”

None of them groaned in annoyance, because they all knew her better than that.

“Can you, uh, load it up?” Fjord asked. “I think it might be a good idea to have it on hand.”

“Can you _load_ spells—?” Molly began, but Jester cut him off.

“It’ll last ten minutes, I can just cast it now on Beau’s wallet.”

There was a brief flash of blue light from the back row, which momentarily blinded Fjord as he looked into the rearview mirror, and quite probably terrified literally anyone else watching.

“Okay…okay…I’m not getting anything yet,” she reported when the glow faded. “But, um…just keep driving. If we get within 1,000ft of the target, I’ll be able to tell.”

They continued in silence with baited breath, waiting for Jester to say something. They passed a few more houses, another intersection, and then just as they reached the edge of a nearby public park, her face perked up.

“Keep going straight! It’s somewhere down this street!”

“ _This_ street?” Beau raised an eyebrow. “There’s just stores and stuff down there, though.”

“The spell cannot be wrong,” Caleb said, with a conviction that was almost a little scary. “We should keep following.”

They drove past a group of community members hard at work unpacking boxes and decorations behind the park fence. One of them reached down and resurfaced with an armful of fireworks, and Nott’s eyes immediately lit up.

“I want those,” she said softly, turning to look up at Caleb’s chin. “I _need_ those.”

“Perhaps later,” he whispered back. “Right now—”

“There it is!” Jester yelped, and her horns hit the car window again. “Right there, in that shop!”

Fjord immediately slowed and pulled over along the sidewalk. All of them craned their necks to the right for a better look, Molly huffing indignantly when his friends completely cut off his view.

“What is it?” he asked. “Where are we, now?”

“The…Shusters Butcher,” Beau read. “Quality Meat since 625 P.D.”

 Fjord whistled. “They must _really_ be high-quality, if they’ve been open that long.”

“Not anymore,” Caleb murmured. “Look at the boards in the windows. They must be closed down, now.”

Beau punched a fist into the air, which just meant she hit the roof of the station wagon and almost cut herself on Yasha’s sword in the process. She pulled back, a little sheepishly, and glowered at Molly’s smug expression.

“I’m just excited, okay? Our thieves are _squatters_! Like in the movies, and shit.”

“What movies are you _watching_?” he asked.

“You know. Good ones. Not Tusk Love.”

Jester pushed the car door open and slid out into the fresh afternoon air.

“I can’t be in there with you if you’re going to insult the greatest movie ever made,” she declared. “Sorry.”

“And we’ve got our wallets to find,” Fjord added. “That’s the real goal, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah, sure. That too.”

\--------------------------------------

Now the gang stood on the sidewalk outside the butcher’s shop, clustered around the front door, watching Nott carefully inspect the lock, and Caleb try to assess the situation.

“They have been closed for some time,” he said. “I cannot get a very good look inside, but I could send Frumpkin to scout around.”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Fjord nodded. “I forgot you could do that.”

“Is it _safe_ for Frumpy, though?” Jester asked. “What if they attack him?”

“Well, he cannot be permanently injured,” Caleb mused, “but I certainly _would_ prefer to keep him around.”

“This lock is easy,” Nott said, straightening up and taking a step back. “I can pick it, if you’d like.”

“Right _now_?” Fjord sighed. “In the middle of the street? In broad daylight?”

“People _are_ sort of starting to give us weird looks.” Molly pointed out. “Though that might just be because of how we look.”

“And because Yasha is wearing a _sword_ ,” Caleb added.

“I think it’d be better to surprise them,” Fjord said. “Otherwise, they might just run out the back, or something.”

Beau tapped on her chin and thought for a second. Then she brightened up, and grinned hugely at the others.

“I’ve got a plan,” she said.

\--------------------------------------

“That is a terrible plan,” Caleb said.

Now they were standing in the alley behind the shop, watching Beau gesture exaggeratedly towards the back door, and then point emphatically up at the fire escape.”

“It’s _perfect_. This is an old-fashioned building! The chimney _will_ be wide enough.”

“Even so,” Caleb sighed, “what if _you_ get attacked?”

“I’ll have a _distraction_. Gods, it’s like you weren’t even listening.”

“I like it,” Nott chimed in. “I think it’s a _great_ plan.”

“You just want Beau to snag you extra explosives for later,” Molly said, crossing his arms. “We _all_ heard you in the car.”

“I think it is a good idea,” Yasha said. “There is trickery, and everything.”

Beau nodded decisively, spun around before any of them could argue. “I’m gonna do it,” she declared. “I’ve always wanted to break into an abandoned building. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

\--------------------------------------

They shivered slightly in the cold, quiet back-alley as they waited.

Fjord was the first to end the silence. “Does it, uh, does it bother anyone that one of Beau’s greatest wishes is breaking and entering?”

“Not really,” Nott shrugged.

“I’m not _surprised_ ,” Molly nodded.

“It is pretty on-brand for all of us, really,” Caleb sighed.

Fjord glanced at their solid, honest expressions. He looked up at the sky, and then down to the ground, and then slowly back to his friends.

“I guess that was a dumb question, huh?”

\--------------------------------------

From two floors up, kneeling beside the wide brick chimney, Beau had her phone between her ear and shoulder, her hands completely full of cherry bombs.

“This is gonna be so fucking cool,” she hissed into the speaker. “Are you _sure_ none of you wanna come up and film?”

“Yes—” Jester’s voice began, but Molly sternly cut her off.

“You’re suffering through this yourself,” he called back cheerfully. “Let us know when you’re ready.”

She grinned at the explosives in her hands.

“Oh, I think you’ll _know_ when I’m ready.”

\--------------------------------------

High-pitched screams shattered the silence surrounding the building. Nott immediately ducked out of the way, slipped her lockpicking tools into her pocket as she went, and let her more sturdy friends barrel on through the door.

They all rammed past a small back room, Yasha at the lead, kicking down another wooden door until they spilled out into the rest of the first floor.

Nott saw a counter, saw a cash register, saw boarded-up windows beyond racks and empty coolers, and then right in the middle of the tiled floor, huddled closely together and looking terrified out of their minds—

Fjord immediately turned around and hit his head against the nearest wall.

“ _Kids_ ,” he hissed to himself and those listening. “Gods, these are _kids_.”

“Don’t hurt us!” one of the boys cried. “We—we didn’t mean it, just take your stuff back!”

Caleb had instantly lowered his hands and extinguished the flames between his fingers. His posture had changed now to be as unthreatening as possible. “Hang…hang on a moment,” he said softly. “We, ah, we will certainly accept our belongings, but… _why_ are you all in here?”

The kids exchanged glances. The oldest—a girl who looked about seventeen but could have been forty, as far as gnomes were considered—stepped forward.

She nudged the pile of wallets and money with her foot. “We were just tryin’ to get by,” she muttered. “Our parents got, uh, they got taken by the Crownsguard. This was their shop.”

And then a monster fell down through the chimney, leapt to its feet, was covered in soot and ash and looked _murderous_.

The children all screamed again and scrambled back from Beau, who almost immediately hunched over and started coughing her lungs up.

There was a moment, punctuated by choking and general respiratory regret, where everyone just stared at each other.

And then slowly, very carefully, Jester made her way past the counter and closer to the kids.

“Um…did you say that your parents were _taken_?”

The younger boy nodded. In a piping, timid voice, he added, “By the Crownsguard.”

“Why?” Caleb asked.

“Idol worship,” the oldest girl muttered. “They were followers of Avandra, but they got caught. Now they’re in the city prison, and we’re hiding out here.”

“We didn’t want to go with the Crownsguard to the orphanage,” the older boy chimed in, “because we’ve heard, um, we heard some pretty bad things about it.”

There was a momentary pause, as they all processed this. Then Beau spoke:

“There aren’t any relatives you can go to?”

The girl shrugged. “Just our parents. We were gonna try and make it on our own, until they got out.”

“But how long will you be alone?” Jester pressed. “How long will your parents be imprisoned?”

“We don’t know,” she sighed. “We don’t know anything, except that they’re gone.”

Another beat of silence followed. Jester was biting her lip so hard it was almost bleeding, and Nott’s eyes had gone misty.

And then Fjord leaned forward.

“What’re your names?” he asked kindly.

The kids exchanged glances. One by one, they introduced themselves:

“Austin.”

“Jude.”

“I’m Gail. And this,” the oldest girl added, gesturing to the very young child hiding behind her legs, “is Layla.”

Fjord nodded. “It’s nice to meet you all.” His voice was so gentle, the words felt like a breeze. “I’m Fjord, these are my friends, and I promise we aren’t gonna hurt you. We… _I_ want to help. Uh…hypothetically speakin’, if we could perhaps talk to the warden about this and see what we can do, how well do you think that would go?”

Gail stared at him. “I’m a teenager,” she said. “I…I don’t know?”

Fjord amended his phrasing, just a tad.

“If we came back with your parents tonight, do you think you could get outta here, right quick?”

All their eyes went wide. The kids immediately huddled in close together and whispered among each other in rapid-fire Gnomish.

And then Gail poked her head up, gave Fjord a hard, resolute nod.

“Mister, if you can get ‘em out, we’ll all be gone before you even know it.”

Fjord turned towards the rest of the group. “Well?” he asked. “Do you think we could give it a shot?”

\--------------------------------------

“I’m _just_ sayin’,” Beau yelled as the car bounded along the parkway, “I can’t believe you were judging _me_ for trying to break into a little butcher’s shop, when _you_ were gonna turn around and suggest we break into a _prison_!”

“I _like_ this new and adventurous Fjord!” Molly called. “I think he’s much more exciting than before. And even a little more attractive, right, Jester?”

“Yes, but I’m still a tiny bit worried,” she sighed. “I’m already not allowed in Nicodranas, I don’t want to get kicked out of _this_ city, too.”

Fjord, if he wasn’t driving, would’ve pounded his head against the steering wheel. “Look, you all didn’t _have_ to come! And besides, I mostly just wanted to see what their sentence was, see if maybe there was anything we could do, or if we could at least get some _information_ for those poor kids.”

“No, no, I like the idea of breaking in,” Beau said. “I just want you to acknowledge that I’m a genius for thinking of it first.”

“Er, excuse me?” Caleb asked. His voice was muffled by his scarf, and Nott’s head. “Excuse me, can I just ask something? As nice of a deed as this probably is, _why_ are we doing it? We do not know these children, and this prison is quite far.”

“I was not going to do anything better today,” Yasha volunteered. “This seems fun.”

“And also dangerous,” Caleb pressed. “And also illegal.”

Fjord sighed, slowly brought their car to a stop in front of a red light.

“I just…what the kids said, really got to me. I understand not wantin’ to go to an orphanage, and with their parents so close, I felt like there must’ve been something I could do.”

Nott’s ears perked up. “Why do you understand?” she asked, blunt as always in these matters. “Are you an orphan?”

There was a beat of silence. Fjord drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, and then shrugged.

“Yeah. I am. And orphanages, or at least the one _I_ lived in, are terrible places.”

The silence stretched on for a few seconds after that. And then Caleb leaned forward, nearly jostling Nott out of his lap, and put a hand on Fjord’s shoulder.

“Okay then,” he murmured. “I am in.”

“Me too,” Nott added.

Molly beamed. “Look at us!” he declared cheerfully. “We’re like a regular family, eh?”

“Yeah,” Beau shrugged, “except it’s like…a car full of cousins that got lumped together for a road trip.”

“I think we might be closer than _that_!” Jester chimed in. “We’re almost like…well a little bit like siblings, right?”

“Are you dating your brother, then?” Yasha called from the back, and the tiefling’s face immediately went sour.

“Nevermind,” she grumbled. “None of us are family.”

“Fjord can be the boyfriend you brought back for the holidays,” Molly suggested. “He’s got that sort of vibe.”

“What does that even _mean_?” the aforementioned boyfriend sighed. “What _vibe_?”

“You know,” Caleb chimed in. “You want to impress everyone, and you are very vulnerable.”

“We can tell by your rose-patterned blankets,” Beau grinned. “And your weird cologne.”

This time, Fjord did drop his forehead to the steering wheel. And when the light changed, he almost didn’t notice.

\--------------------------------------

“Okay, here’s the plan: Nott and Jester, no talking. Beau, no insulting the warden. Yasha, whatever you do, don’t take that sword out. Molly, don’t flirt with any guards. Caleb, you’re with me.”

“ _Was_? Why?”

“Because you’re the most normal-looking one here, and once I heard you argue with a library customer about their overdue fees so hard, you almost made 'em cry. We’re gonna use our words as best as we can, so we hopefully _don’t_ have to break into a jail tonight.”

“But I _want_ to.”

There was a sigh. Then:

“Just be _normal._ Please? If you gotta, I guess you can keep your eyes peeled for entrances and exits and security, that sort of thing. In case. For later.”

This was answered with the sound of cracking knuckles.

“Al- _right_ , boss. That, I can do.”

\--------------------------------------

They were greeted immediately upon entry by two Crownsguard, who looked more confused by their appearance than anything. They exchanged puzzled glances when Fjord requested to speak to the warden, hesitated and looked around frantically as he insisted, and it was only until Caleb stepped forward and started reciting a list of ancient and obscure laws about the criminal justice system, did they finally give up and just escort them down the halls toward the offices of their superiors.

When they were about halfway there, Nott’s ears suddenly perked up. She frowned slightly, stared at the floor, and then turned and tugged on Fjord’s sleeve.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered. “There’s…a weird sound, downstairs.”

He frowned and tried to listen. After a few moments, he shook his head. “I don’t hear anything,” he murmured back. “What is it?”

She squinted slightly, pursed her lips in concentration, and then her expression went puzzled. “I don’t…it’s stopped. It’s quiet, now.”

“What did it sound like?”

She considered this for a moment.

“Like metal,” she said eventually. “Like lots and lots of moving metal.”

Fjord shrugged and straightened back up. “Let me know if it starts again. I’ll try to listen better.”

Then the guards guided them towards a set of large metal doors, which opened at the touch of some sort of key-card. They were led down a short hallway, past a few more rooms and what looked like an office kitchen, until they finally arrived at the last door at the end of the hall.

“The warden’s in there,” said one of the guards. “We’ll be waiting here to bring you back to the front.”

“No trouble,” the other guard warned. “We’re armed.”

Beau opened her mouth as if to provide some choice remarks to that statement, but Caleb nudged her pointedly with his elbow. And then with that, Jester carefully knocked on the door, and pulled it open.

The inside of this office was, largely, office-like. There was a desk, and a series of bookshelves, and a couch pressed up against the near wall. At this hour, this far into winter, the sun was already close to setting; faint streamers of pink and orange light leaked in through a series of wide glass windows that framed the back of the room.

But the windows were also heavily barred, which cut shadows across the sunset and against the carpeted floors. Upon further examination, it also appeared that most of the tomes on the shelves were numbered prison ledgers, and there was an alarm set into the ceiling behind a shiny metal cage. A ceremonial sword hung above the sofa, and just under that was a photo depicting an old, stout, grey-haired gnome standing proudly in front of a crowded jail cell.

That very same gnome was seated before them now, and grunted as he heard the door shut.

Without looking up, he asked, “Is it installed, then? Is it working now?”

The group exchanged glances. Fjord cleared his throat, and stepped forwards.

“Uh…sorry. I don’t think we’re who you were expecting.”

The gnome looked up sharply. His eyebrows did this fascinating thing where they vanished completely into his hairline.

“Who are you lot?” he demanded instantly. “Where are the guards? I’m expecting a report.”

Fjord glanced back at his friends, who all shrugged, and then turned to face the gnome.

“We, er, we’re here to inquire about some prisoners? Your guards are waiting outside. Could we maybe…spare a moment of your time? I’m assumin’ you’re the warden? Sir?”

The gnome huffed and drew himself up to his full height—which was difficult, since he was a) a gnome, and b) sitting down. “I _am_ the warden,” he agreed. “Warden Poppin Drokrusher.”

Beau snorted so hard she didn’t even have to fake turning it into a cough. She ducked back behind Yasha and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Warden…Poppin Drokrusher,” Caleb repeated. “That is…your name.”

“Indeed. And _what_ exactly is your business with these prisoners?”

“We wanted to get a bit of information about them,” Fjord said. “Some…distant family members were inquirin’ about why they got locked up, and how long they might be in your lovely establishment for.”

Warden Drokrusher blinked. “And they sent _seven_ people to ask?”

“It’s a big family!” Jester piped up. “ _Real_ big. And super-concerned.”

Fjord, behind his back, waved frantically for her to shut up.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he added as graciously as he could, “we’d just like to know a bit more."

Drokrusher stared at him, as if trying to decide how cooperative he felt like being today. And then he sighed, and swiveled his chair over to the nearest bookshelf.

“Very well, I suppose. What are their names?”

“Gilda and Wallace Shuster,” Caleb supplied. “According to the family, they stopped returning correspondence about five weeks ago.”

Drokrusher nodded, pulled down a large volume and started thumbing through the pages. “Shuster,” he murmured, “Shuster, Shuster…ah, yes. Gilda and Wallace. Fined for heretical worship, and taken into custody when the allotted amount was not received. Says here that they’ve got eight months to serve before being let back out, unless the fine is paid.”

“ _Eight_?” Molly’s eyes went wide. “How…how much money did they _need_?”

“Thirty-five thousand dollars,” Drokrusher read. “To be paid in full.”

Caleb, inwardly, felt his entire system shut down. Outwardly, he raised an eyebrow and took a step closer. “ _Herr_ Warden, that seems like very steep price.”

Behind him, for the second time in half an hour, Nott’s expression went odd. Her ears twitched.

The warden was still focused on Caleb. Now his eyes were narrowing. “Are you a lawyer? Or a politician?”

“Am I dressed like either of those things?”

Nott tilted her head closer to the ground. Slowly, she turned to Fjord.

“If that’s the case,” Drokrusher said coldly, “I don’t believe you’re in a position to comment. Those are the facts. And if you are quite satisfied, I have things I need to—”

“That noise is back!”

The warden’s gaze swiveled down towards Nott. “Excuse me?” he asked.

Her expression was mixed, one half-excited and half-nervous, and she gestured emphatically towards the floor. “Listen! It’s…it’s…mechanical-sounding.”

Her friends mostly looked confused. But Drokrusher immediately perked up and leaned forward in his chair.

“You can hear it?” he asked. “The Gearkeeper?”

Nott’s ears twitched again. “…yeah. Yeah, the…wait, what?”

“A new component of our security,” he answered vaguely. “A marvel of modern technology. What does it sound like? Functional? Powerful? Efficient?”

Nott’s eyebrows went up and then slowly, very slowly, she frowned.

“It sounds…like it’s getting closer?”

There was a moment, as they all let that sink in.

And then suddenly, the alarm overhead started to blare.

The room immediately fell into shades of harsh red and panicked crimson, the flashing light and high-pitched wail briefly flooding their senses. The gang clustered together and stared around in bewilderment, but the warden didn’t even hesitate to leap off his chair and run towards the door, shouting something incomprehensible in Gnomish as he went. But before he could yank open the handle, those same two guards burst into his office—weapons out, breath heavy, vests splattered with blood—and collapsed onto the floor.

“It’s gone mad!” one of them screamed. “It’s attacking _everything_!”

“We barely got out,” the other panted, “we—we barely escaped.”

“Escaped?” The warden shook his head in bewilderment. “Escaped, what do you mean? What’s happening?”

“The construct,” the first guard yelled over the noise, “the construct is loose! It-it _killed_ Merlowe! And then-and then it killed Peters, and Andre, and Woodrow, and—”

Without waiting for him to finish, Warden Drokrusher had darted towards his desk and fumbled for a small walkie-talkie. He whipped back around to stare at the guards.

“Where is it now?” he demanded. “Where did it go?”

The one of them raised a shaky hand, pointed into the hallway.

“It’s here,” he whispered. “It-it’s behind the safety doors, but we’re not sure how long they’ll hold.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” the warden spat. “Fuck, we need to call for help. What—who’s left, who’s down in the prisons?”

The two guards shook their heads. “I don’t know,” one said. “We don’t—that thing was a _monster_ , it cut down everyone—”

And then Molly, whose expression had been shifting stranger and stranger since the alarms had gone off, suddenly lifted a hand.  

“Excuse me,” he said. “Excuse me, you said it’s a monster, yes?”

“No doubt—"

“Yeah, _definitely_ —”

He raised a finger. “Hypothetically, if someone were to have beaten monsters before, do you think they could take down this one?”

Everyone in the room stared at him. Beau’s eyes went wide.

“ _No_ way,” she said. “You—fucking— _Molly_ , what—”

Fjord spun around to face the warden.

“How long would it take help to arrive?”

“I—what? F-fifteen minutes? Twenty minutes?”

Then Fjord pointed at the guards. “Are those doors strong enough to hold?”

Their expressions indicated that they weren’t sure, but were terrified that they’d all find out soon.

And then Fjord turned to looked at his friends. Molly was grinning, and Yasha had carefully brought her hand up towards the edge of the cloth she wore strapped to her back.

“Well,” said Jester, “I _do_ have a bunch of spells left.”

Beau threw her arms into the air and sighed. “Fuckin’—sure, I guess. Why the fuck not?”

But Nott shook her head in disbelief, her eyes glowing with the harsh red light of the alarm. “Are you even listening to yourselves?” she demanded. “How are you all _so_ calm?”

They exchanged glances, and as if the evening couldn’t get any stranger, most of them shrugged.

“I am used to fighting,” Yasha said.

“Same,” Beau agreed.

“And we did just fine last time, didn’t we?” Jester added.

Caleb instantly shook his head. “This is a terrible idea. Extremely bad.”

“We’re all gonna die,” Nott said.

Molly sighed, and put as reassuring of a hand as he could on Caleb’s shoulder, given the screeching alarm and the ominous lighting. “Think of it this way,” he said. “We could die in here while we wait for the monster to come for us, _or_ we could go out there and face our deaths like right fuckin’ heroes.”

“Neither of those options sounds good to me,” Caleb muttered.

Now Fjord took a step closer. “Then think of it _this_ way,” he said. “You can decide to not come with us, and have to face that thing alone when we all die ‘cause you’re not helping, or we could stick together, and that way we’ll _really_ stand a chance.”

While Caleb and Nott took a moment to consider this, Molly leaned back and stared at the warden. Drokrusher was furiously dialing a number into a landline and swearing at how slowly it was going.

“Hey, you! Mister Pippin!”

Drokrusher paused. His eyes narrowed. “It’s _Poppin._ ”

“Sure, sure! If we kill that thing, will you free the Shusters?”

There was a moment’s pause.

“If you _what_?”

Molly sighed. “We want to kill your monster, in exchange for those heretic gnomes.”

The warden barked a laugh into the receiver. “If you can pull that off, I’d love to—”

Molly didn’t even wait for him to finish. He grabbed the nearest guard and hefted her up onto her feet.

“Get us to that thing,” he said. “We’ll take it from there.”

\--------------------------------------

Picture this:

When the metal doors slide shut behind them, strangely calm and smooth against the not-so-distant screams of fleeing guards and the harsh, flickering red lights above, the group that once called itself the Mighty Nein stand together, shoulders close, staring out into an empty corridor.

They have weapons at the ready—or at least, most of them do. Yasha’s greatsword is clutched securely in her grasp, and Molly has commandeered the decorative sword from the warden’s office. It isn’t exactly weapons-grade, but that hasn’t bothered him yet. Beau has stolen a police nightstick, and Nott has produced some strange, folding contraption from one of her many pockets. Fjord is standing off to the side, hands empty but humming with a strange sort of energy that suggests, perhaps, they won’t be empty for long. Jester clutches a small metal symbol between her fingers. Caleb carries a nervous flame above his palm.

Together, they hold their breath. Together, they wait. Together, they hear another scream, a sickeningly _wet_ sound, a body falling, and then nothing.

Together, they exchange glances: part-reassurance, part-confident nod, part-terrified laughter, part-anxious sigh, part- _how-the-hell-did-today-get-so-fucking-weird_?

And then they all turn back, look forwards, exhale deep, just in time to see a shining, horrible, enormous bronze sphere of groaning clockwork appear at the mouth of the corridor.

A thin metal tube, almost like a living periscope, whips around to face them.

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, gods, oh, gods, oh, gods—” Caleb hissed as a barrage of bolts and shrapnel narrowly took his head off his shoulders, “— _götterverdammt,_ why did I let you talk me into this?!”

“Cry about it later!” Beau screamed, pressing her back flat against the wall to avoid another whirring blade. “At least you’re not up close!”

Caleb almost responded to that, but more metal came flying his way, so he shut up and cowered as far into the corner as he could. This time was _so_ different from the battle at the Moondrop, there was no room to flee, there was no space to hide, Caleb took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on staying alive so he could even begin to help.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the corridor, Yasha and Molly had made a few strikes that left inky, dark gashes along the Gearkeeper’s thick bronze hide for the others to target, but most of their blows were cut short by the narrow walls surrounding them, preventing them from doing as much damage as they should have. More tiny glints of metal rocketed down the hallway from Nott’s crossbow, flying forward with an unseen fury, and Beau’s nightstick pounded against metal, but like the countless guards that had already fallen to this machine, their blows weren’t enough.

Only Jester and Fjord had better luck—the sudden, sporadic explosions of holy light from her outstretched hand and bursts of arcane green energy from his left the creature singed, and blackened, and _angry._

And then suddenly, all of the Gearkeeper’s blades retracted. Before anybody could even react, the construct began to spin with a blinding speed, and launched itself forward like a bronze wrecking ball, plowing Beau without a moment to escape and sending Molly diving for the wall, nearly obliterating Nott before it came to stop against Yasha and the blades whipped out again, resuming their frantic, horrific, whirling slashes.

Then Molly picked himself off the ground and leapt in to join the rest, did his best to block the blades with his own glowing sword. Beau grunted with pain as she moved, as she threw herself forward with her baton and her fists. Yasha went back for another strike, more metal went flying through the air, but it seemed like their combined efforts just wouldn’t be enough. Jester and Fjord were starting to run out of spells.

There wasn’t enough space here for a proper fight, this creature’s armor seemed to be too strong, their attacks were starting to fall short of survival and yet the monster kept going, kept rampaging, and as Caleb stood twenty feet back from the battle, he cursed his own damn inability to help. Fjord had been right. Jester, blasting the monster with furious magical spells, was _right._ The rest of them needed Caleb to do something, for them all to stand a chance. They _needed_ him to make a difference. Fear be damned, he _needed_ to—

Caleb went for broke. He dug deep into himself, reached down, far down, into that piece of himself he always buried and choked as hard as he possibly could, and felt the fire in his hands grow brighter, felt the heat in his gut grow stronger, felt a spark in his chest and a _burn_ in his lungs and he closed his eyes and thrust his arms forward and screamed a command he hadn’t dared to speak in almost fifteen years—

—for those that perhaps had not studied magic, the sound that leapt from his tongue would have meant nothing. For Caleb, who had spent decades pouring over tomes and drawing sigils, years perfecting his tone and his gestures, months using his gifts against others, days without sleep watching flesh turn to ash—

—it meant many things. It meant flame. It meant victory. It meant a proud smile, and a warm hand, and an utterly unbearable feeling of pure and untarnished _pride_.

Right now, in this moment, it meant that a Fireball exploded out of his hands, soared white-hot through the crackling air, and collided against the monster that had been cutting down his friends.

And too late, he remembered that those very friends were still in the way. Too late, he remembered he no longer knew control. Too late, he realized that the corner of Molly’s jacket and Yasha’s shawl were catching cinders and Beau was coughing from the heat, and he was so caught up in the sudden terror of this moment, in the sudden horror of his actions, that he completely missed the way the Gearkeeper reeled back from the impact, whirred forwards with a vengeance, hummed with an aching, creaking, roar and hefted two spears up into the air and launched them swiftly, unwaveringly, with a vengeance, towards Caleb.

One missed.

One didn't.

Caleb felt himself fly backwards ten feet, felt something splinter into his gut. He barely even had time to register the pain before a wall flew up to meet him and the back of his head collided against plaster and crumbling paint.

Later on, he would wish he’d allowed himself to fall unconscious.

His friends, some singed and some not, saw the blood bloom around his chest, saw the trickle form at the edge of his mouth.

What exactly happened next, Caleb would never be sure. There was a blinding flash of holy blue light that surrounded him and momentarily dulled the pain, and between his own fluttering eyelashes he could see clanging metal and glinting blades. At one point, he heard more screams but these were from _rage_ , _pure rage,_ he could’ve sworn that a pair of black wings suddenly filled the hallway and there was a burst of infernal wrath and at one moment, he even felt himself reach a hand out and throw forward three curling rays of fire.

And then finally, _finally_ —against another succession of brilliant green explosions, a police nightstick jammed into one of its arms, as Jester called down a column of retribution and Nott sent bolts raining across the hall, as Yasha finally got in another strike and as Molly _screamed_ , leapt forward, jumped between two blades and rammed his glowing sword into the central magic core with a fury even he didn’t quite understand—the Gearkeeper shuddered, and groaned, and lurched back, and collapsed in a heap of beaten, charred, disfigured scrap.

They all stood there for a moment, silent under the blaring alarm, panting heavily and trying to catch their breath.

And then someone yelped frantically, a rush of people ran to Caleb’s side, one gripped his shoulder and another held his leg and under the careful direction of a soft, terrified female voice, the spear was ripped from his stomach.

A flood of sensation:

_Searing cry of agony, overwhelming numbness, excruciating void, shock and nothing but shock, soft whimpers, the soothing warmth of healing magic as someone knit his organs back together—_

And as that all of happened, Molly slowly yanked Drokrusher’s sword out from under some loose wires. He kicked the construct, sending an avalanche of metal scattering to the ground. Then he gave Fjord a clap on the shoulder, kicked Beau in the side as he passed, pointedly avoided even a glance at the huddle around a glassy-eyed, blood-soaked Caleb, and made his way to the warden’s office door.

“Excuse me?” he called, and his voice only broke slightly. “We-we’re done, now. We’d like our gnomes. And…maybe some towels.”

There was a moment, where no response came.

And then the handle turned, and the door creaked open.

The warden stared up at him from three feet off the ground. He considered Molly’s expression, stared at the blood painting his chest, at the oil-slick blade in his hands, and slowly, very slowly, took a step back.

“Come in,” he said weakly. “I’ll, er, see to it that you get what you need.”

Molly dipped his head. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

And then his knees buckled, and Yasha rushed forward to grab him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯
> 
> You know, when planned this chapter out, I didn't actually mean for things to end up this way, but the second I typed out those last words and stared at what I'd done, I thought: okay. Yes. This is what I'm rolling with. (Also don't @me, I realize you shouldn't be able to just waltz in to see a warden like that, but I'm tired and a college student and they did it in medieval canon, so this is what I'm also rolling with)
> 
> Also, just a heads up, next chapter will likely be a little bit late! I'm going going on vacation with my rommate, and so I'll probably write up Ch. 15: the Emotional Aftermath, next sunday or monday night! Thanks for being understanding!!
> 
> And, of course, thank you so so much for reading! Comments and Kudos keep me going, and please please consider sharing this story with a friend! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page, and you may have heard that I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!
> 
> <33333


	15. Wings of Warmth and Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK?! IT'S ME! FEATURING:  
> recovery in the car, a conversation is had, fireworks and birds, tusk love convo threads, healing, and in with the new

“You’re going to need to eat, like, a steak or something,” Jester murmured as, all the way at the front of the car, Fjord switched the gears into drive. “Maybe two steaks. Maybe even three.”

“I’m not sure I can do that, dear,” Molly sighed. He was seated in the trunk next to her, also wedged in with Yasha, doing his best not to hit either of them with his horns. His charms jingled as their vehicle began to bounce out of the parking lot and towards the street outside the prison.

Jester shook her head, kept her voice low. “You _have_ to,” she pressed. “You lost so much blood that you _fainted_ back there! Actually, I should check out all those cuts later. To make sure there’s no oil in them. That probably wouldn’t be healthy.”

Molly tried for humor. “ _Probably_?”

“You know what I mean.”

He sighed again and sagged against the back row of seats. “I don’t really think that’s necessary, dear. Most of the wounds were, ah, self-inflicted. I’m more concerned about…” and here Molly lowered his voice further and leaned in, “I’m more concerned about _Caleb_.”

Jester bit her lip. “Me too,” she whispered, “but you _saw_ what happened. He won’t let me do anything. He brushed me off every time I tried to help, and he kept saying that he was okay.”

Molly snorted. “Yes, dear, but there no way any of us could believe that.”

They both craned their necks, did their best to gaze out over the rest of the car to where Caleb was slumped in the passenger’s seat, staring quietly out the window. Only a small sliver of his face was visible behind his headrest and his curtain of mangled ginger hair, so neither Jester nor Molly could make out the turmoil in Caleb’s eyes, or the way his palm was pressed hard against his stomach.

At least the rest of the people in the station wagon were better off, though only slightly. Fjord was silent in the driver’s seat, drummed his fingers idly against the wheel. Beau sat directly behind him, absently watching the streets roll by. Nott, in her lap, looked like she was hanging onto sanity—and consciousness—by a thread. Jester had largely managed to stay calm and optimistic all the way through the battle and afterwards, but now the effort to remain in control was taking a physical toll. Yasha looked more-or-less fine, but that in and of itself could lead one to draw some worrying conclusions about her default state of mind. And at this point, despite his refusal to admit it out loud, inwardly Molly was acutely aware that right now, a gentle breeze could have knocked him over.

And, of course, there were the other passengers. Gilda and Wallace Shuster, looking grimy, and exhausted, and anxious, and bewildered, sitting next to Beau, holding hands and staring at their apparent saviors: this ragtag bunch of colorful weirdos who had just paid for two strangers’ freedom with their own blood a mere twenty minutes ago.

Gilda fidgeted in her seat as they turned onto the freeway. It seemed like there was something she desperately wanted to say, and after a few more seconds of deliberation, she finally looked around and raised a soft, nervous voice, “Er…excuse me?”

If any of them had been in a chatty mood, the conversation in the car would have lulled, and they all would have gently directed their attention towards her.  As it happened instead, the Mighty Nein all instantly honed in on this new source of sound with laser-like precision, causing Gilda to yelp.

Her husband squeezed her hand for reassurance and Fjord, ever the gentleman, blushed slightly.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “It’s, er, it’s been a stressful day. Is there something you wanted to tell us?”

After one more gentle nudge from Wallace, Gilda nodded and cleared her throat. “We just, er, we just wanted to thank you. Again,” she added. “We…we can’t even _begin_ to tell you how much we appreciate what you did. But, er…we were sort of wondering… _why_ did you do it? We-we’re strangers. Criminals to the Empire, even. You didn’t _have_ to help us.”

“Not that we don’t appreciate it,” Wallace quickly noted. “Not that we don’t, er, not that we aren’t extremely grateful.”

Fjord met their gaze through the rearview mirror, and cracked a soft, tuskless smile.

“We met your kids,” he said. “They…left a real good impression.”

“Oh,” said Gilda. She looked to her husband, whose eyes had grown wide, and then back to Fjord. Then she blinked. Then her eyebrows shot up. “You _met_ them?”

“Yep.”

“Are they…alright?” Wallace asked.

“They’re fine,” Beau volunteered. “They’re still camping out in your store.”

“They hid from the government,” Nott chimed in. “They’re the ones who told us about you.”

Both parents exchanged glances. Their expressions flickered, emotions danced and whirled across their faces.

“Did you—”

“Are they—”

They both faltered, as if waiting for the other to speak, and in the silence that followed, Molly reached up and did his best to put a calming hand on Gilda’s shoulder. He missed completely, instead whacked Nott in the ear, but didn’t let this bother him.

“They’re good kids,” he said gently. “And current evidence to the contrary, based on what we saw in _them_ , I think it’s safe to say that you both are good parents as well.”

“No families should be separated like that,” Fjord agreed. “This was the right thing to do.”

“Especially for a crime to harmless,” Caleb added distantly, his voice like a tremble in the breeze.

Wallace wiped at the corner of his eyes, and nodded. It was Gilda’s turn to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” said the father. “We…thank you.”

“How could we ever repay you?” the mother added with a sniff of her own.

“Oh, no,” Beau began, “we can’t ask—"

And then Jester shot up, jewelry jingling, horns narrowly missing the edge of Yasha’s sword.

“Guys!” she shouted. “Wait, wait, I’ve just had an idea!”

\--------------------------------------

It was well after dusk by the time they arrived back at the Shuster’s Butcher. There had been some commotion going on in the park as they drove by, the groups of volunteers now running around and moving boxes and occasionally setting sparks off into the chilly air. It looked like they were preparing, like they were waiting, like their dark silhouettes were holding their breath and observing the skies and bracing themselves for something to happen.

Around the corner, on the other side of the street, something else—small, but perhaps even more important—was also happening.

“You be good, okay?” Jester murmured. “You…you are going to be so beautiful as you grow up, and they are going to take care of you, and you’ll have this whole family here for you, okay? But remember that no matter what’s happening and what you are doing, we…we are always…we are always thinking of you with love.”

There were tears in her eyes as she ruffled the head of the little kenku girl standing before her. Then she wrapped her arms around Kiri one more time and squeezed tight, as if to hold onto this moment forever.

Eventually, she let go.

Then Fjord stepped forwards. He crouched down.

“You’ll always be a member,” he said. “Always a member of the Mighty Nein.”

Kiri trilled back at him softly and blinked those enormous golden eyes.

And then Nott ran up, pulled her in close, whispered, “Thank you for listening to us.”

Yasha knelt down, squeezed Kiri’s shoulder, promised to visit again soon. Beau grabbed Caleb by the hand and, though he had spent much of this evening looking distant and reserved, right now and in this moment, the fog seemed to clear from his eyes. Together, they both joined in on the hug.

And when they finally broke away, Kiri craned her neck around the others and met Molly’s gaze. For a moment, they just stared at one another.

And then Kiri gave him a slow nod.

He cracked a smile. “Glad to see we understand each other,” he nodded back. “Take care of them.”

“Take care of them.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Beau stood up, wiped at the corner of her eyes, and turned towards the Shusters. They were all standing in the doorway of their long-broken home, now with light spilling past the boards in the windows and a warm glow emanating from within. The youngest girl was nestled tightly in her father’s arms, the rest of the children gathered up close against their mother.

“If there’s ever an opportunity to pay this forward,” Wallace said, “we will. Thank you.”

Beau snorted. “You already are. Look around! You all need to be a vinyl decal on the back of a minivan.”

“A what?” Caleb whispered, and Yasha just shrugged.

Gilda gazed down at her children, looked kindly at the tiny shape of Kiri. “It’s been a long time since I felt—”

And then the sky exploded with thunderous cheer, burst into a shower of light. Instinctually they all looked up, just in time to see a smattering of scarlet sparks scatter against the winter night. There was a pause, where they all held their breath, and then another cry broke the sound of fizzing smoke, another streak flew through the air and erupted into radiance, into blues and golds and dazzling silvers, and then more fireworks, more colors, one followed by another, and another, and another, all soaring across the night, caressing the darkness with gleaming wings of warmth and twirling light.

All of their faces, of the Shusters, of the Mighty Nein, of the one who now was both, shone with a thousand colors.

After another moment of them all staring upwards, Gilda cracked a smile and addressed her children. “How about we all go inside, wash up, and we can go out for some hot cocoa and muffins?” she suggested. “If we’re lucky, the fireworks will still be going when we come back out.”

The children brightened up immediately, raced into the house with their father at their heels.

And then Gilda gave one last nod to the group gathered outside the door, and turned her soft, gentle smile towards the newest member of her family.

“Are you ready, dear?”

On this warm winter night, Kiri looked up and met the tear-streaked gazes of the Mighty Nein, watching her go with hearts somehow dark and heavy and full and light, all at the same time.

A bloom of stars glittered overhead.

“I am Kiri,” she said.

They faded.

And then she gave one last nod, and turned around, and followed Gilda into the house.

The door closed behind her with a faint _click_.

Fireworks danced in the night above.

\--------------------------------------

Just before Caleb could join the others at Fjord’s station wagon, parked a couple dozen feet down the street, Molly reached out and grabbed his hand.

There was a moment, where both of them stared at each other in shock.

Then Molly quickly pulled away, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

“Are you…Caleb…are you… _alright_?”

Caleb blinked. For a few seconds, both of them were silent. And then:

“ _…ja,_ I am fine?”

Molly bit his lip. “Are you _sure_?”

“Are you?”

A drizzle of sparks appeared in the distance, before quickly vanishing. The test display was drawing to a close, now.

Molly stared at him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Caleb shrugged. “You were also hurt,” he said. “I remember that much.”

“Not nearly as badly as you,” Molly returned, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll be fine.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Is that a promise?”

“Er…what?”

Caleb didn’t answer that. Instead, he shook his head and gestured back to the car. “The others are waiting for us,” he murmured. “It has been a long night. We should not make it any longer.”

Molly tried and failed to move on. He leaned forward, lowered his voice. Overhead, a red firework briefly caught his eyes and caused them to glow.

“If something’s bothering you, you’ll tell me, right?”

Caleb didn’t answer right away. And as the lights faded once more, he simply shrugged and turned around.

“If I had something to say to you, I would have said it.”

Then he walked off towards the car.

Mollymauk stood along the sidewalk a few moments longer, trying to decide what that meant, and how he could possibly have responded.

And when nothing came, he drew his coat up around his shoulders, and followed Caleb back towards the rest.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:13 PM

 **Seaman:** guys  
**Seaman:** I’m really thankful for everything y’all did today  
**Seaman:** none of you had to care about those kids  
**Seaman:** none of you had to come with me to that prison  
**Seaman:** and none of you should’ve had to risk your lives fighting that monster  
**Seaman:** but you did  
**Seaman:** and I don’t  
**Seaman:** I don’t think there’s anything I could ever do to thank y’all for it  
**Seaman:** I’ll say it again though, cause its something that has to be said  
**Seaman:** thank you, guys  
**Seaman:** thank you 

\--------------------------------------

From where he stood in their shared bathroom, cleaning the last of the oil off his face, Molly grinned.

“Don’t mention it, dear,” he called out. “What are friends for, right?”

Fjord appeared in the doorway, carrying an armful of towels.

“You say that, but I’d never expect friends to do that,” he shrugged. “Never in a million years.”

Molly caught the reflection of his grin in the mirror.

“I guess you’re right then, dear,” he said. “I guess that makes us family.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:16 PM

 **Drunkmonk:** dude  
**Drunkmonk:** of course  
**Drunkmonk:** we stick together  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** plus it was super important to you fjord!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** of course we’d want to help!  
**Babebarian:** it was also not completely bad  
**Babebarian:** just slightly bad, and not for very long

\--------------------------------------

“It’s quiet without her,” Jester murmured. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, staring into the bowl of soup she was trying to make dinner. “I miss Kiri already.”

Beau took a few steps forward. Behind her, Yasha emerged from the bathroom wearing a clean set of clothes.

“It’s for the best,” Beau sighed. “You saw that family. You saw how happy they all looked. Kiri deserves to live with normal people, like that, who’ll know how to take care of her.”

“And we can still visit,” Yasha added quietly. “She is still close to us.”

“I know,” Jester sniffed. “I-I know. But I _miss_ her. She was…she was so lovely and sweet, and now she’s gone.”

Beau tentatively reached out, and when Jester didn’t pull back, she wrapped an arm around the tiefling’s shoulders. “Not _gone_ ,” she said firmly. “Never _gone_.”

“Just nearby,” Yasha chimed in. “You could force Fjord to drive you.”

This won a laugh, that broke through soft sobbing and hung bright in the air.

Jester rubbed at the edges of her eyes.

“Thanks guys,” she said quietly.

Beau gave her a pat on the head. “You know what?” she asked. “I think I have the perfect thing to take our minds off this.”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Beau guided her over into the living room, Yasha trailing behind them, and came to a stop in front of the tall wooden shelves that resided next to the television. It had a glass door, which Beau threw aside to unnecessarily reveal dozens upon dozens of thin DVDs cases, crammed tightly together for maximum movie-selecting ease. They had been sorted, long ago, by how interesting the covers looked, by how action-packed the story was, how colorful the pictures were, and how raunchy the actors got.

Only Jester fully understood this system. After two years of living together, Beau still wasn’t sure. Of course, that didn’t matter in the least.

“Let’s watch something,” she declared. “Just the three of us. Something _good_.”

Jester, as if almost on instinct, reached her hand out towards Tusk Love.

And then she paused.

“You pick,” she said, turning towards Beau.

Beau eyes went wide. “What?” she asked.

Jester felt a small smile begin to creep across her face. One last time, she lifted her sleeve and brushed all the tears away.

“You pick,” she repeated, and now a spark of cheer was beginning to blossom. “You do that, and I’ll go get us some popcorn!”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:20PM

 **NottSoBrave:** caleb says “it was the right thing to do”  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “no need to thank us”  
**Seaman:** that’s real good to hear, Nott  
**Seaman:** im glad youre looking out for him  
**NottSoBrave:** well duh  
**NottSoBrave:** its what I do 

\--------------------------------------

Nott was worried.

This shouldn’t have actually been such a big deal; Nott was often worried, unless she was drunk. But tonight, despite how badly a big part of her wanted to curl up and drown her sorrows, an even greater part of her knew that there was no way she could.

Not tonight, anyways. Someone else needed her.

The second they had gotten home, Caleb had kicked his shoes off, had hung his coat up in on the rack, had draped his scarf against the couch, had ruffled Nott’s hair and headed straight for the bedroom. Then he had gently lowered himself onto the bed, removed his socks, closed his eyes, and let the world shatter around him.

Now, though hidden by tattered blankets, his shoulders visibly, occasionally, trembled.

Nott stood in the doorway for a little while, letting the light from the kitchen stretch her shadow across the carpet. Then she walked into the bedroom, made her way to the bed, and slowly climbed up onto the mattress.

She sat down next to Caleb and gave him a gentle pat on the head.

He didn’t respond, but that was okay.

She hadn’t really expected him to.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:23PM

 **Lavender Thunder:** WELL, if that’s all done now  
**Lavender Thunder:** we should all probably get some rest, right?  
**Lavender Thunder:** good night, to all of you  
**Lavender Thunder:** sleep tight, dears  
**Lavender Thunder:** i for one never want to wake up again  
**Seaman:** gods me too, gnight yall  
**Drunkmonk:** yeah yeah sweet dreams and all that shit  
**NottSoBrave:** good night!!  
**Babebarian:** good night  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** we will all feel better in the morning! 

\--------------------------------------

And then, Fjord shut the door behind him.

With the curtains drawn shut and the hallway light off, most of his bedroom was cast in a deep flood of shadow. Dream-like, he made his way to the bed through muscle memory alone, sank down onto the edge with his face in his hands, his chest hunched over his knees.

The air around him was still, crushing and silent. He should have felt good. He should have felt _amazing_. All of them had done a great thing today, for a family, _and_ for a little girl. But that battle…that battle had unsettled him. Even more than Caleb going down, even more than nearly dying himself, there was something he just couldn’t shake from his mind.

It was like a hum, whispering at the corners of his soul.

After a while, he lifted his head. What had he been told, again?

_“There are all sorts out there in the world."_

After a while, he reached out a hand.

_“Warlocks, most of them, who tie themselves to unspeakable evils—”_

With a burst of chilling seawater, frigid from some unknown depths and gleaming with an otherworldly green light, the falchion appeared between his fingers.

_“—in exchange for a small bit of power.”_

It dripped gently onto the wooden floorboards. Mist hung off the blade.

“Unspeakable evils,” he murmured softly to himself.

It shone like a beacon in the dark. It felt _good_ to hold.

“Not always evil,” he remembered. “Usually, but not always.”

After a while, he flicked his wrist. In another burst of seawater, the sword disappeared.

After a while, he kicked off his shoes. After a while, he slipped into his pajamas, and went to bed.

\-------------------------------------- 

Today | 12:32AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I should be furious with you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for lying so plainly through your teeth  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for saying  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for saying whatever it was, that was  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I mean, GODS, what am I supposed to make of that?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but you know  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it isn’t bothering me as much as it should  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im rarely ever sorry about anything, Mister Caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but right now, in this moment, I’m more sorry than I’ve ever been 

Today | 1:04AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** i told you once that I love the people in my life beyond anything else  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and that thanks to them, every day was a beautiful day  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the day we spent together, at the rink and then the bar, THAT was a beautiful day as well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because you were there right by me, the entire time  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and then today, seeing that happen to you, coming so fucking close to losing you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it made me realize that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** as brave as I thought I was already being, as much as I thought I was sharing with you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** there is still SO much you don’t know  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and there’s still so much that I don’t  
**Molly Tealeaf:** what happens if one of us dies before we can say what we need to?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** then what are we supposed to do about it? 

Today | 1:22AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I am sorry, Mister Caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I am sorry for pushing us into that battle  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I am sorry for being so reckless  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I am sorry for not being able to protect you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i just hope  
**Molly Tealeaf:** maybe one day, you can find it in yourself to forgive me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** though I couldn’t blame you if you didnt  
**Molly Tealeaf:**...  
**Molly Tealeaf:** well i suppose this is good night, then  
**Molly Tealeaf:** let's hope we'll both be there to greet each other come morning, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:**...  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night

\--------------------------------------

People need time, to heal.

Oh, sure, there are clerics these days that can cure disease with a word, that can knit skin in a heartbeat and smooth down scars like creases on a bedsheet. Aching muscles can always be hushed, and blinding pain can always be dimmed. But real healing, true healing, the kind that takes agony gently by the hand and sits it down on a worn but comfy sofa and hugs it close until the hurt goes away, _that_ kind of healing, takes time.

Sometimes you can feel it begin, even when you aren’t quite sure what it is.

Beauregard did, that next morning, when she sat Jester down at the kitchen table and, using a series of crudely-drawn crayon diagrams, explained where it was that she had been disappearing to these last few weeks. She explained that she hadn’t wanted to say anything. She’d been too angry to admit that the monks found her, too proud to say she’d submitted again to their training, too embarrassed to tell Jester that she’d willingly done so because she needed the money her father promised she would get if she returned to her studies.

Beauregard felt it, when Jester pulled her in for a hug and didn’t say she was silly for holding back, didn’t giggle at keeping such a harmless secret, only pressed a hand to her back and held her in close and, through a gentle smile, said she was just happy that Beau had finally felt comfortable enough to share.

Caleb felt it, that afternoon, when he woke up and found a tiny hand in his, when he opened his eyes and saw Nott asleep on the mattress beside him, snoring loudly, drool pooling at the edge of her mouth, still dressed in oily, bloody clothes, having finally succumbed to exhaustion during her patient midnight vigil over a friend’s broken form. He felt it warm, and soft, caressing the spot where the Gearkeeper had speared him. And it wasn’t the answer, and it wasn’t the cure, but certainly, it was a start.

Nott felt it soon after, when Caleb gently nudged her awake and offered to make them both some pancakes.

Yasha felt it a few days later when a storm rolled in over the city on an uncharacteristically warm winter morning, a torrential downpour that swept the snow off the streets and called to her, electrifying and impossibly urgent. She had dropped everything immediately, packed her bags in a second, and it was only when she marched up to the front door and saw Beau standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, did she hesitate.

Yasha felt it when Beau only nodded, only grinned, only took a step to the side and murmured, “I’ll be waiting.”

Yasha left that morning, feeling more different than she ever had before.

And, of course, Fjord and Jester felt it together, at very last, almost a week later, standing on the welcome mat of their new apartment. Eventually they would have the others over, eventually they would show off their home, eventually they would usher their friends with open arms into a new chapter of their life.

But, for now, on this gentle afternoon, in this warm and quiet peace, the chapter was just for them.

They felt almost a week of worry, of confusion, of carefully holding everything together and carefully holding everything back, suddenly tumble away. And though later on, they wouldn’t tell anyone else what came next, right now they probably held hands.

They probably shared a kiss.

People need time, to heal. That much was clear. But there was something else, something stronger, holding one of them in particular, back.

\--------------------------------------

Loneliness was becoming a recurring theme in Molly’s life. Which was ridiculous, because Molly had friends he would do anything for, and who would almost probably do anything for him. Sure, they had all been a bit scattered these last few days, but that was to be expected. Recovering from what happened at the prison was no small task; it made sense that everyone would need some time to themselves. Molly himself certainly didn’t feel back at 100%, not by a long shot, there was even one night when the bright red glow of his own eyes in the dark bathroom mirror had scared him shitless. Which had been sort of funny, in retrospect.

Sort of.

Maybe it would have been better if Fjord were still here. Maybe Molly would have felt less dulled, less muted, less empty, if those model ships were still in the living room. If the television still played Empire Sports much too loudly. If someone came home in the evenings smelling like bar polish and fruit juice, complaining about how drunk people were terrible at karaoke. If, maybe, there was still someone around who sang sea shanties every time they took a shower, and someone who always forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste in the mornings.

But now, instead, there was just a stripped bed. A vacant chair in the kitchen. A room cleared of all its possessions, and quiet where there should have been song.

Molly, standing in the kitchen with half a pint of ice cream in one hand, a spoon in the other, and a bathrobe draped across his shoulders, sighed.

And what was he supposed to do about it? It wasn’t his fault that barely anyone had responded to him, rent in this city wasn’t cheap and it had been a near-miracle he’d been able to afford it so far. And it wasn’t _his_ fault that the only person who had nearly committed had decided to move in with a sibling instead. That was logical. That made _sense_.

What didn’t make sense, Molly mused as he trudged into the living room, was the way he felt. He was letting his emotions get the better of him. What he really needed to do was get out there and tell some fortunes. What he really needed to do was to keep working on ideas for those videos. What he really needed, was to pester Gustav into letting him help fundraise to get the Moondrop back, because he _knew_ he could do something, because he knew he _had_ to do something, because really, everything had started going wrong when—

There was a knock at the door.

Molly practically threw himself off the sofa in an attempt to answer it as fast as possible. It was only a small shred of his brain, still in tune with polite society, that reminded himself he should probably close his bathrobe before facing the world.

He did. And then he opened the door.

“Hello, how can I—”

Molly looked up. And then he looked up some more.

“Hey there,” said the stranger in a low, humming drawl. “I, uh, I saw you put out an ad for a roommate? I wasn’t entirely sure how to properly do this, so I figured I’d just swing by and see if that offer was still available.”

Molly’s brain switched back on. He recovered.

“Er…right. Right! Yes! Of course, ah…would you like to come in? I can put on some tea, we can chat a bit, maybe see if we’re a good fit?”

The stranger beamed a wide, floppy smile. “That sounds great,” he said. “And if you’re a fan of tea, it sounds like we’ll be fast friends.”

Molly chuckled at that. “As the one who doesn’t want to pay rent by himself, I certainly hope so. The name’s Mollymauk Tealeaf,” he added as he pulled back the door. “Who might you be?

The stranger extended a large, fur-covered hand. He blew a few locks of long, wavy pink hair from his face, and nodded pleasantly to the world around him.

“I’m Caduceus Clay,” he said. “It’s just so wonderful to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Thank you so so much for your patience with this chapter!! i got home yesterday night at 1AM from a wild wild trip, and today I sat down and pumped this chapter out because it's been rattling around in my brain for a week. I really hope you like it, and I can't can't WAIT for what comes next. This marks the end of Arc 2, and though there's NO month-long hiatus this time, believe me when I say, things start to get pretty wild in 3. For one, I really start justifying the tags on this fic, and we start to tie up a few loose ends (maybe like why I'm keeping count of Molly's texts, for instance? you don't know.) The tone is also going to go wayy back to the lighter one of before, this crazy fighting battle chapter got a lil dark, and we're just gonna go right on back to modern-day shennanigans now (for a bit)
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos keep me going!! If you have a friend who might like this story, please give it a share! I love knowing what people think, and their reactions to this fic! I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page, and you may have heard that I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!
> 
> Until next time, <333333


	16. Ice Cubes Shaped Like Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Caleb's Emotional State, Welcome to the Squad, Who the Hell is this guy we just welcomed into the squad, Nott makes a discovery, Jester has a conversation, Molly and Cad have a chat

That next morning, Caleb started the day how he usually did: by lugging himself out of bed and towards the bathroom with the urgency of a two-toed sloth going uphill through molasses. After eventually reaching the mirror, he fumbled around for his toothbrush, noted that Nott still hadn’t touched hers in the two years since they’d bought it, and set about getting himself ready to face the world—or, at least, slightly less unprepared.

And as he stared absently into his reflection and watched his toothbrush work, his mind began to wander. It touched upon the groceries he’d need this week, the month’s rent he’d be paying tomorrow, even skimmed over the distant knowledge that the holidays were very soon approaching.

Then he spat his toothpaste out, and his senses plunged into the past. Liquid dribbling down his chin, the sudden, sharp rattle of his chest, they immediately brought back unbidden memories of a dark corridor, an alarm flashing, the smell of gasoline, something thick and broken through his gut—

Caleb shut his eyes and took a long, shaky breath.

Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his threadbare t-shirt, pressed a hand to the skin of his abdomen, and carefully opened his eyes. For all the complaining Jester liked to do, she really was a good cleric; there was no sign of injury, no mentions of pain, not even a faded scar or tiny nick to justify this unending mental turmoil.

Caleb sighed. He needed to get it together. He needed to stop thinking about the battle. It had been ten days ago, for the gods’ sake! It was time to move on! It was time to forget.

He put his toothbrush down and finished rinsing out his mouth. Then he turned around and immediately came face-to-face with Nott, who was perched on the corner of his bed, frantically waving her phone around and nearly vibrating with excitement.

“Guess what?!” Her tone suggested that she would be telling him ‘what,’ whether or not he actually guessed.

“Er…is everything alright?”

She grinned an enormous grin. “I’ve got some news from Molly.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 9:38AM

 **Lavender Thunder:** guys seriously I cant believe youre doing this  
**Drunkmonk:** if you cant believe it then you really don’t know us  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***** **:** beau’s being a shit but shes right  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** we need to interrogate him  
**Lavender Thunder:** youre going to scare him away  
**Lavender Thunder:** _I_ barely know him as is  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** exactly!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** we need to make sure hes the right one  
**Lavender Thunder:** you didn’t do that to beaus new roommate  
**Drunkmonk:** you GAVE me my roommate dumbass  
**Drunkmonk:** shes your best friend  
**Lavender Thunder:** I know I know I just don’t think this is necessary  
**Seaman:** oh its absolutely necessary Mol  
**NottSoBrave:** yeah whos this cruces guy anyways  
**NottSoBrave:** how do you know he isn’t a spy  
**Lavender Thunder:** his name is Caduceus dear  
**Lavender Thunder:** and any questions like that are off limits when youre over  
**NottSoBrave:** drat  
**NottSoBrave:** well  
**NottSoBrave:** if youre dead tomorrow, don’t blame me  
**Lavender Thunder:** gee thanks  
**Lavender Thunder:** ill keep that in mind 

\--------------------------------------

“So just to clarify,” Caleb said as he watched Nott duck under the turnstile with practiced ease, “now we are going to Mollymauk’s home, to interrogate his new roommate?”

“Right,” Nott said, and kicked a gum wrapper out of her path. “Except that Molly’s an idiot who already agreed to let Cruces move in, so what we’re _technically_ doing is welcoming him to the city and helping him move his stuff out of the van.”

“But really, it is an excuse to meet and judge him? Turn left, we are going uptown.”

“Exactly! Pretty good plan, right?"

“It is…probably one of our better ones,” Caleb admitted. “But are we not concerned at all that if we show up en masse, we may end up scaring him away?”

“Yeah, but remember, we all practically live at each other’s houses. If Cruces can’t handle the whole gang at once, he’d probably be doing himself a favor by leaving.”

They both came to a halt at the empty platform, and watched a rat skitter away under the rails.

“I suppose you are right,” Caleb sighed eventually. “That would be best for him, in the long run.”

\--------------------------------------

As they turned the corner onto Molly’s street and approached the front of his building, Caleb and Nott saw Beau, Jester, and Fjord huddled together on the sidewalk in the cold. All three of them were bundled up in scarves and mittens, but a faint layer of snow dusting their jackets indicated that they had probably been standing out here for a while.

Standing, and gawking. At one vehicle in particular.

Caleb and Nott came closer. They came to a stop.

“Is that—” he began, but Beau immediately cut him off.

“ _Why_?” She wrung her hands out at the car. “ _Why_ is this?”

“Did Molly say what this guy’s job was?” Fjord asked. “Maybe there’s a good reason.”

“ _I_ think it’s kind of interesting,” Jester volunteered. “It probably lightens the mood.”

“I don’t think _anything_ could lighten _that_ mood,” Nott mumbled. “I hope this isn’t the car we have to move stuff from.”

Beau rolled her eyes. “Knowing our luck? It probably—"

And then, because sometimes the universe has a phenomenal sense of timing, the front door to the apartment complex swung open. It revealed Mollymauk Tealeaf, hands on his hips and smile wide, wearing an outrageous neon-green parka, argyle leggings, and sunglasses. This display was so confusing and distracting, that the group almost didn’t notice the figure that emerged from the shadows closely behind him.

That was truly a testament to Molly’s outfit, because this individual should have been very hard to miss.

For one, he had to duck to properly fit under the doorway. For another, he was over seven feet tall, gangly as all hell, covered in thick white fur, and had a head of hair that was comprised entirely of either pre-chewed bubblegum, an as-of-yet-undiscovered species of pink lichen, or candy floss.

He also wore a silk turquoise shirt, baggy white pants, and held of tray of iced tea. Which was fun, considering the weather.

For a moment, both parties just stood in place and stared at each other. Then the strange newcomer looked at his tray, and then back to the group, and then back to his tray.

“Drat,” he said. “I got the number wrong. Hang on, I’ll grab some more cups.”

And then he turned around, and went back inside.

The door closed gently behind him.

In the silence that followed, Molly took his sunglasses off. He reached a hand into his pocket, and slowly produced a set of silver keys.

“Caduceus, er, Caduceus won’t be able to get into the apartment,” he mumbled. “I’ll just…I’ll just go give him a hand.”

And then he too slipped inside, leaving the rest of the group standing out there on the sidewalk, alone in the cold winter air.

Jester turned towards her friends. “We’re keeping this one, right?” she asked.

\--------------------------------------

“Call me Fjord.”

“My name’s Nott!”

“Beau.”

“Caleb Widogast.”

“And I’m Jester! It’s super- _duper_ nice to meet you!”

Caduceus bowed his head slightly as he nodded. “It’s so nice to meet you too,” he grinned. “Sorry about before, I thought there were only four of you coming.”

“That’s no fault of yours, dear,” and here Molly glared pointedly at his friends. “Their visit was…unexpected.”

Caduceus handed the last glass of tea to Caleb, who immediately began to heat it between his fingers with magic as surreptitiously as possible. The ice cubes inside were shaped like flowers. They slowly started to melt.

“You all are real sweet to have volunteered to do this for a stranger,” Caduceus continued, oblivious to how strange indeed everything had been thus far. “I mean, I don’t even know you folks.”

“That’s okay,” Jester said immediately, “Molly likes you, and that’s good enough for us! We just wanted to give you a proper welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Again,” came the gentle response. “Real kind.”

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind sooner or later,” Molly sighed. “Now, we’re all here to move things, yes? Is that your, er, van, dear?”

Caduceus beamed. “Actually, it belongs to my family. But we have a couple of these, so they let me take one to get the job done.”

“Speaking of jobs,” Nott piped up, “We couldn’t help but notice something very interesting about this car and were sort of wondering if—”

“Is that a _hearse_?” Beau demanded.

“Is that a Volkswagen?” Fjord added.

“Yes,” said Caduceus with a cheerful, pleasant smile. “Most of my stuff’s in the back. Give me a second, I’ll get it open.”

They watched him pull out a set of keys, move around to where the trunk should have been, and quickly unlock the door.

To their mixed relief and disappointment, it failed to creak ominously as it swung open. It did not give off a spooky moan. There was no smell of rotting flesh, no whisper of macabre secrets, no wave of death and mystery. Just two duffel bags, four cardboard boxes, and an army of indoor plants. Their terracotta pots were packed tightly together with duct tape and balled up newspapers. Everything smelled faintly of tropical medley air freshener. 

“That’s it,” Caduceus declared, upbeat tone never wavering. “And I just wanted to say one more time, thanks so much for lending a hand.”

“Er…yeah, of course,” Fjord said, recovering first. “Right. It’s the least we could’ve done.”

“No,” Caduceus shook his head. “The least you could’ve done was nothing.”

The gang exchanged glances. Beau took step forward.

“I’m just…gonna start moving stuff now, okay?”

“Dibs on the plants!” Jester cried, immediately pushing past her. “I’m the strongest, I should take the most delicate stuff.”

“Are you sure you do not want to tackle the heavier items?” Caleb called. But she ignored him, so he settled instead on waiting for the others to stake their claims before moving in and selecting the lightest remaining box for himself. He slid it out carefully, gripped it as tightly as he could, and as he turned around and began to head up the sidewalk, he immediately felt the cardboard slipping through his grasp.

Luckily, Molly was there. He swooped in quickly and came up on the other side.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

Caleb cracked a smile. “It would appear so, eh, Mister Mollymauk?”

The answer was a teasing wink and together, they began the long trek up to the fourth floor.

\--------------------------------------

 _Mister Mollymauk!_ Ah, he had missed that name. He had missed that _voice._ Ten days was nothing in the grand scheme of things, but—as Molly thought to himself while he and Caleb narrowly avoided tripping down an entire flight of stairs—those ten days had been far too many. He wondered if Caleb felt the same way, wondered if maybe there was a tiefling-shaped hole in _his_ heart, and just as he was about to open his mouth and begin to chase that answer, a faint memory twinged at the back of his mind.

_“If I had something to say to you, I would have said it.”_

Molly bit his tongue.

Best not to overstep, with this one. After all, you’ve only just become friends. Don’t ruin it.

They cleared the final staircase and took a minute to catch their breath at the top.

Through mild panting, Molly grinned and said, “Almost there, dear. Third door on the left, and then we can put this godsdamned box down.”

“ _Ja_ …okay…that…that would be…very nice.”

\--------------------------------------

“Just…hang on, hang on, a little to the left…that’s it. Wonderful. Crotons like the sun, you know.”

“I did not know that in the least,” Beau said, taking a step back to raise an eyebrow at the heap of leaves in front of her, “but…cool, I guess. What else?”

“The areca palm should go next to it,” Caduceus instructed. “That window is perfect for them both.”

And as Beau set about trying to identify which of the dozen-or-so indistinguishable plants around her was the right one, enlisting an equally-bewildered Fjord for his assistance, Caduceus turned and smiled at Molly.

“Thanks for being so accommodating,” he said. “I’m glad you don’t mind me filling your home with plants.”

Molly brushed a finger against a nearby leaf and grinned. “No worries, I love nature, can’t get enough of the stuff. And honestly, as long as I don’t have to take care of any of these, I can safely say that they really bring something nice to the atmosphere.”

“It’s oxygen,” Caduceus nodded sagely. “Plants produce oxygen.”

“Er…sure, dear.”

“Are you a gardener?” Jester asked. “Is that your job?” She was standing in the kitchen now, unpacking an array of ceramic mugs and arranging them in the cabinets based on how pretty she thought they were. Currently, all the pink ones were stacked at the front.

“I am,” Caduceus said, “though it’s more of a hobby these days. It _was_ a big part of where I grew up, of course.”

“Where you grew up?” Caleb echoed. He was in the living room, had begun sorting through a box of papers and books.

Caduceus nodded. “My family runs a cemetery. We specialize in natural burials, so caring for plants is pretty important to us.”

Pottery clinked and leaves rustled in the silence that followed as the group frantically waited for their brains to finish processing what had just been said. The only one who seemed entirely at ease, probably unsurprisingly, was Molly.

His eyes had begun to glimmer with a spark of interest. “Hold on a moment, dear,” he said. “ _I_ seem to recall you telling me that you were in town as a teamaker.”

“Oh, yes,” came Caduceus’s reply. “That’s why _I’m_ here.”

“But…your parents and siblings?”

He nodded. “The family business is strictly funerary, I’m afraid.”

“You’re afraid?” Nott chimed in, unable to help herself. “Is it scary?”

Caduceus seemed genuinely taken aback by that question. “Why would it be scary?” he asked. “Death is a natural part of life. And at the Blooming Grove Mortuary & Public Cemetery, there’s nothing more natural than death.”

Another brief pause fell over the apartment.

“Is that…your tagline, or something?” Beau asked eventually.

Caduceus shrugged, and Caleb went in for a weak smile.

“You should consider it,” he said. “That might attract more customers.”

“Did you ever do funerals for hippies?” Jester asked. “That seems like something they’d like.”

“It was,” Caduceus agreed. “We’ve definitely had more than a few come through.”

“I should think so,” Beau muttered into a geranium, “your hearse is a _Volkswagen_. Your graves are covered in flowers.”

A light suddenly went off in Fjord’s head. His expression morphed into dread.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, slowly standing up and pointing to the kitchen. “Hang on, Molly, didn’t you once say that _your_ tea was made of…graveyard flowers?”

Molly’s eyes went wide. He turned towards Caduceus. “You know, I did, in fact, once say that very thing. Mister Clay, your product wouldn’t happen to be comprised of… _similar_ elements, would it?”

“Sure,” Caduceus shrugged. “But mine’s from a cemetery. Not a graveyard.”

“I might have gotten the details mixed up,” Molly said dismissively. “Besides, now that I think about it, the iced tea we drank earlier did taste _awfully_ familiar. And I mean that in the least-awful way possible.”

“That was the most confusing sentence you’ve ever said,” Nott sighed as Fjord started wiping his tongue off on his sleeve. “Try again?”

Molly rolled his eyes. “I _meant_ , I think I might have had Mister Clay’s tea, before.”

“Shouldn’t you know, if you had?” Beau asked. “I mean, doesn’t it say on the side of the tin or whatever, where it comes from?”

“It does,” Caduceus nodded, and Molly actually looked rather taken aback at that.

“Really?” he asked. “Well, I suppose I never noticed. I’m not one much for reading.”

There was a sound like an avalanche of falling paper. They all glanced over and saw Caleb, now kneeling over an upturned carton of documents. He was staring directly at Molly.

“You are…not?” he murmured.

Molly shrugged. “Sorry, dear. It’s never been my thing.”

“But you like stories, don’t you?” Jester looked slightly confused. “You talk about movies and stuff all the time. With _me_!”

“And you just _love_ telling ‘stories’ of your own,” Beau added sardonically.

“Sure, sure,” Molly sighed, “that stuff is all well and good. Movies are fine, listening’s fine, embellishing the truth in a creative way is _totally_ fine. It’s just the _act_ of reading that I’m not the biggest fan of. It’s boring.”

“It could be what you’ve just _been_ reading?” Nott began. “Maybe if you tried—”

Molly shook his head adamantly. “Been there, done that,” he said. “People always suggest that I just _try_ harder, or that I haven’t found the right book, and it never works. It will _not_ work.”

Fjord glanced carefully towards the wizard in the corner. Mt. Widogast seemed to be rumbling, but not in the way that he had expected.

Very slowly, Caleb scratched his chin. “Mister… _ja,_ Mister Mollymauk?”

“Yes, dear?” Molly sighed.

“I think you should come to the library, at some point. I may have something for you.”

“If it’s a book, I _just_ said—"

Caleb held up a hand. “It is not a book,” he said. “It is a…surprise.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to _trick_ me into reading a book?”

Caleb met his skeptical gaze with small, generous smile. “I promise,” he said. “Librarian’s word.”

In the background, Beau pretended to gag. Molly ignored this and rolled his eyes at Caleb with exasperated fondness.

“Well, I suppose I can’t say no to that. But seriously, _no_ reading is going to happen from me.”

Caleb nodded. “I will not be trying to make you. Guarantee.”

Mollymauk grinned and nodded, and with that bit of entertainment complete, Beau wiped at the corner of her mouth and gestured towards a pot filled with bright red blooms.

“Anyways,” she said, “back to the important shit. Caduceus, are _these_ flowers made of dead people?”

“Well,” he hummed, considering this for a moment, “I guess very _technically_ , they are. That’s amaryllis, gathered up from the plot where the Meriol family is buried.”

Fjord gazed into the dark soil. “Spooky,” he said.

“ _Creepy_ ,” Nott agreed.

“Don’t be rude!” Jester admonished. “I think…I think…if flowers, if something pretty can come from something that’s a little…dark, then that’s a good thing, right?”

“It’s a _hell_ of an aesthetic,” Molly agreed cheerily. “And the tea is top-notch. As a return customer, I can safely say that your blends are five-star, Mister Clay. Absolutely incredible.”

“Really?” Caduceus beamed. “That’s good to hear. My family’s whole livelihood may depend on it.”

Eventually, Caleb broke the silence by raising a hand. All of them turned towards him.

“That was…er…a bit of a loaded statement, Mister Caduceus. What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“Well,” Caduceus shrugged, “the short version is like this...”

\--------------------------------------

“So, the cemetery’s fallen on hard times, “Beau said.

“Yep.”

“And your family thinks selling tea is going to help?” Nott asked.

“That’s right.”

“And you… _also_ think that you’ll be able to sell enough to make the difference?” Fjord muttered.

Caduceus shrugged, his elbow nudging the leaves of a nearby fern. “It couldn’t hurt. And we didn’t have any other ideas.”

“I think it’s a _great_ plan!” Jester volunteered, voice loud and a little aggressively supportive. “It’s super brave of you to venture out here all on your own, to do something like that to save your family! You must really love them.”

“Oh, sure,” Caduceus added. “Most of them.”

“Is there someone that you do _not_ enjoy?” Caleb asked, transfixed.

“Isn’t there always?”

“I’d also like to know,” Fjord said, lifting a finger, “if you don’t mind my asking, how exactly is it that you’re affording to come out into the city when your family’s so short on money?”

“Oh, well, you know,” Caduceus waved a dismissive hand, “compared to where we already were, taking on even more debt didn’t seem too bad.”

“Ah,” Fjord said quietly. “I…see. Excuse me, could you just…give us a moment?”

Fjord leaned in towards Molly, and hid them both behind his hands.

“Mol,” he whispered, “I’m a little concerned that maybe your new roommate isn’t the _best_ roommate material. Financially speakin’.”

“I understand your concern,” Molly whispered back, “and here’s my counterpoint: have you _tried_ his tea?”

“I can hear you both,” Caduceus said in that light, upbeat tone of his, “and if helps at all, I’m not _entirely_ alone in this. I’m selling the tea at a friend’s store, and working there part-time. Our families were close, once upon a time.”

“A store?” Beau asked. “What sort of store?”

“It’s for handmade items, clothing and bags and the like,” Caduceus said. “It’s called the Crimson Feather?”

“Oooh, that’s in the Pentamarket!” Jester’s eyes lit up. “And that store, it’s run by a really nice firbolg family, right?”

“ _More_ Firbolgs?” Nott asked. “Do you all know each other, or something?”

Molly groaned. “Gods, you…you can’t just _ask_ that. What if _I_ asked you if you knew some random goblin?”

“If you’ve met one, you’ve met them all,” she shrugged. “So yes, I probably do.”

“Questionable phrasing and charged racial commentary aside,” Caleb said weakly, “it is good to know that Mister Clay has connections, yes? And that it seems as if, at least financially, he has a solid plan.”

“That’s right,” Caduceus agreed. “Sell as much tea as I can, for as long as possible.”

“Exactly. So, really, none of us have anything to be concerned about.”

“Not at all,” Caduceus nodded. “And I firmly believe that the Wildmother will see to it tha—”

\--------------------------------------

The rest of the afternoon featured a rather extensive hour in which the group gently tried to explain to Caduceus that there were just a few things he should probably keep in mind if he was going to try living in the Empire. Namely, under no uncertain terms, that if he was a follower of any gods outside the approved seven, he should probably keep that to himself. Jester and Molly both sympathized with his shock and quiet frustration, even gave him a few tips on how to keep everything under wraps— _no, seriously, you can’t just say her name in public, no, as much as you want to, don’t do it_ —and eventually, he gave in.

After that, they spent a little while longer carefully arranging plants, fully unpacking some of the boxes, and chatting pleasantly to get to know one another. And as the clock dipped further towards early evening, and Caleb and Fjord both remembered that they had jobs, the group decided to stand up, stretch their backs, and call it a day there.

Caduceus offered to make them all dinner, and they promised to take him up on it some other time.

“I sure hope you do,” he responded, handing Jester her coat off the rack. “I really would like to pay you back for all your help.”

“Nonsense,” Fjord returned. “The chance to get to know you was payment enough.”

“I don’t agree,” Caduceus said pleasantly, “but thanks again.”

The Mighty Nein had slowly gotten used to this system of brutal candor and friendly appreciation over these last few hours, so they just shrugged this off. And after one last moment to zip up their jackets, one more second where Beau almost tripped over Nott as she reached for her boots, and one final round of goodbyes, the group finally finished getting ready and together, they left the building.

As the door swung shut, Molly turned towards his new roommate. “Well, dear,” he grinned, “I don’t know about you, but all this physical labor made me quite hungry. What’re you in the mood, for?”

\--------------------------------------

Nott and Caleb parted ways at Eclipse Street station, Caleb to get to the library for tutoring and Nott to go off and do…whatever it was that she did when she was unsupervised.

Today, that meant venturing out into the Pentamarket find the shop that Caduceus had mentioned. She was curious about these firbolgs, and also surprised that she’d never heard of the Crimson Feather before. It was almost sad how bad she was at recognizing all the businesses, given how often she was in the area. Then again, the fact that she was only three feet tall, and spent most of her time suffocating in a forest of other people’s knees, might have been a factor.

She waltzed into the square just in time to see a familiar sweep of thick black braids disappear around an alley.

Intrigued, she took a few steps closer. And then she broke into a run.

\--------------------------------------

“I’m just _saying_ ,” Jester sighed to nobody in particular, “I know why you wanted to be careful around my momma, but these guys totally wouldn’t mind at all! You saw today, we talked _so much_ about illegal gods and nobody even said a thing! I think they’d really like to meet you, and maybe they would even start _worshipping_ you.”

Jester swung her feet off the side of the bed as she listened to an inaudible response. Then she sighed, and flopped back down onto the mattress.

“I know, I know, but…Fjord said something to me a little while ago that got me thinking. You…you would never ask me to leave, right? You’d never try to…try to break us apart, right?”

Jester was silent, for a moment. Her expression twitched slightly, like she was fighting off a frown.

“Of course!” she said. “Of course you’re important, you’re my _god_ and my best friend, silly! I just—"

She stopped.

“…wait, what?”

There was another moment, where another answer leaked through. Jester’s eyebrows furrowed.

“But…Fjord has never lied to me. Never- _ever,_ I know that for sure! Traveler, what are you saying?”

A moment’s pause.

“…are you sure?”

Another breath—

“…do I have to?”

And then the world turned on without her.

Jester rolled over onto her stomach and stared up at the headboard. Two pillows rested gently against it, one pink, covered in frills, the other plain green and sporting a tiny, _tiny_ tear from where Fjord’s baby tusks had caught against it the week before.

“Okay,” Jester murmured eventually. “But not…not today, alright?”

And then there was a different voice, sonorous and smooth, hanging just off the cusp of reality:

_Of course, Jester. Take all the time you need._

She spent a few more minutes staring at their pillows. After a while, she crawled up to the top of the bed, pulled Fjord’s in close, and leaned over to the nightstand for her phone. She needed to do something to distract herself, she decided. But what? What would be…oh.

Oh, _yes._

\--------------------------------------

“What are you doing back here?” Nott demanded. “Is this a hiding spot? Are you on a mission? Is it top-secret? Are you finally going to admit to being a spy?”

“Please,” Yasha whispered, holding her hands out in a placating gesture, “please, stop yelling at me.”

Nott settled down just slightly. “Sorry. But seriously, if you’re going to confess, give me a second to get my phone out and take a video—”

Yasha sighed. “Nott, that is not why I am here. I am not a _spy_.”

“Which is exactly—”

“—what a spy would say, yes, we have been through this before. Really, I would like to stop.”

Nott shrugged. “You’re just so mysterious. And hey, wait, if you _aren’t_ here for spy reasons, then what _are_ you doing here? And why…what’s with all the stuff back there?”

Yasha followed her gaze to the back corner of the alley, a small shelter from the wind and snow tucked under an old overhang, snug in the alcove of a long-boarded up door. There was a sleeping back, and a dirty but thick quilt, piled up next to a backpack and a few other random knickknacks.

Yasha’s face went sheepish.

“I, er…I slept there, last night.”

Nott blinked. “What? Wait, wait… _why_?”

“I…got back to the city yesterday, but I could not return to the apartment. Besides, I am leaving soon again anyways, and I thought there was no point in—”

“Wait, wait, wait, _why_ couldn’t you stay in your own _house_?”

Now Yasha’s expression turned tortured.

“Er…er…because…because of Beau.”

Nott’s eyebrows shot up. “Because of _Beau_? Why, what did she do to you? Was it mean and awful? Do I, do I need to go in there and shake her up for you? Because I will, even though she could probably kill me, that doesn’t matter if she’s making you—”

“No, no, no,” Yasha rubbed the back of her neck. “No, that is not it. It is, er…because she was…nice.”

Nott blinked. “She was…nice?”

“Yes.”

“She was _nice_?”

“Yes."

“Beau was _nice_ to someone?!”

“Exactly!” Yasha said. “Exactly! What does…why was she so nice to me?! What do I…what do I _do_ about this?”

Nott’s eyes had gone wide, now she was scratching her chin. “That really is weird,” she murmured, “wow, Beau was _nice_. Are you sure it wasn’t, I don’t know, are you sure it wasn’t that she tried to feel your muscles and it was just particularly gentle? Or she smacked you, but it didn’t hurt as badly as it usually did?”

“No, it was nothing like that,” Yasha said. “She just told me that she would be waiting for me when I got back.”

“ _Wow._ ”

“I _know_. What does this mean?”

Nott stared at the ground for a moment, deep in thought. Then she looked back up at Yasha.

“I have literally no idea,” she murmured. “I think we should—”

Her sentence was cut off, by the sudden vibrating of her phone. But instead of stopping after a few seconds, it continued to buzz. And buzz. And buzz.

Yasha’s chest pocket had similarly abruptly turned into a hive.

As one, they reached for their phones. As one, they stared at their screens.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 5:39PM

Jester added Caduceus Clay to the group 

Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “PastelBoy”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “IcedTea”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “TeaMan”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “PinkPanther”

 **Drunkmonk:** STOP

Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “Furry”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “Fuzzman”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “Fuzzmaster”  
Jester changed Caduceus Caly’s nickname to “The Fuzzster”

 **Drunkmonk:** JESTER

Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “GraveGuy”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “Mossman”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “CemetaryBarry”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “Teatime”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “CottonCandy”

 **Drunkmonk:** JESTER I’LL KILL YOU

Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “Pink Lemonade”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “MisterClay”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “K-Clay”  
Jester changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “FlowerPower” 

Beauregard removed Jester from the group

Nott TB added Jester to the group

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** beau that was mean  
**Drunkmonk:** don’t even talk to me  
**Drunkmonk:** I swear to the gods if you try that one more time im going to your house and smashing your phone  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** but beauuuuu this is important!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** he needs the perfect title  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** he deserves it  
**Drunkmonk:** I deserve some peace and quiet  
**Drunkmonk:** seriously, not one move or I kick you again 

Nott TB changed Caduceus Clay’s nickname to “ (✿ **´** ω **｀** ) ”

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:**  ITS PERFECT  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** oh my  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** how exciting

\--------------------------------------

“Sorry about them,” Molly sighed as he carefully balanced a cutting board of chopped cabbage and mushrooms between his fingers. “They mean well, they can just be a little…overwhelming.”

Caduceus responded with a good-natured shrug, stirred a spatula gently through the contents of his skillet. “I liked them. Do they always do everything so energetically?”

“Usually.” Molly set the board down onto a clear patch of counter. “It helped that they couldn’t wait to meet you. They’re like…puppies, I guess. They wanted to see what the new guy was like.”

Caduceus sprinkled a pinch of something into the pan. “Do you think it went well? I think I’d like to be their friend.”

Molly snorted and leaned against the dishwasher with his arms crossed. “Jester spent the last thirty minutes trying to give you a nickname. I think you’re good, dear.”

Caduceus’s long pink hair was pulled up into a loose bun, so Molly could see the gentle smile that broke across his roommate’s face.

“That’s nice to hear. Pass me the cabbage?”

Molly did. And as he leaned in closer, the smell of whatever was cooking washed over him like a fond dream, warming the air and giving his senses a kiss on the proverbial forehead. There was some kind of tang to it, lying under the wave, mixed in smoothly with the hum of gently simmering meats and vegetables.

“It’s a family recipe,” Caduceus explained, almost as if reading Molly’s mind. “You eat it with noodles. I’ll start boiling the water for that part, in a second.”

Molly responded with a friendly shake of his head. “I can do that, dear. Boiling water is something I understand.”

Caduceus gave a chuckle, low and humming like a friendly tremor. “Thanks for the help, then,” he said. “Much obliged.”

Molly waved a hand. “It’s good for me to practice, dear. Usually I’ll just get takeout or make myself a jelly sandwich, so this is a nice change of pace.”

“That…doesn’t sound very healthy.”

Molly fished a pot out from under one of the cabinets and began rinsing it under the sink. “Probably not,” he admitted, “but hey! I’m still alive, right? And if I died, at least you’d know what to do about it.”

Caduceus laughed. “Good point,” he agreed, and shifted over slightly so Molly could bring a pot over to the stove. “It’s probably good that we know each other, then.”

“Indeed. And, of course, I’ll provide friendship, good taste in music, and fashion advice. Though, my dear, I really don’t think you need it. Your palette is fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Caduceus beamed. “I rather like it myself, too.”

“Just friendship and music, then,” Molly nodded, and started washing the cutting board.

Caduceus hummed slightly to himself as he stirred the skillet again. For a few moments, the kitchen was filled with the whirr of the stove and bubbling, simmering ingredients. Then Caduceus turned to Molly with a curious expression.

“I was sort of wondering about your friends,” he said softly, “and forgive me if I step over a boundary, but I couldn’t help but notice a certain amount of…chemistry, in the air.”

Molly did his best to keep a neutral face. He added more soap to his sponge.

“Oh, really? Is that…so?”

Caduceus nodded. “Yes. There was one in particular, who looked pretty taken with someone else. He was very kind to everyone the whole time, but he seemed to only have eyes for one person.”

Molly’s heart started to flutter.

“ _Really_?”

Caduceus nodded again. “I’ve only just met these people, so I wouldn’t want to intrude—”

“Oh, no, intrude all you want—”

“Is that so? Well, then, if you don’t mind my asking, has Mister Fjord asked Miss Jester on a date, yet?”

Molly almost dropped his sponge. Instead, he burst into laughter and whirled around.

“Oh, gods, we never did tell you about that, did we? Sorry, Caduceus, yes. Fjord and Jester have been in a relationship for quite a while. They actually live together.”

Caduceus smiled faintly. “Ah. I see. That makes sense.”

Molly wiped at the corner of his eye, and immediately regretted it when he felt the sting of dish soap. “Yes, yes, there’s some relationship gossip among our friend group,” he said, and started running his hands under cool water. “Just you wait until we get Beau and Yasha in the same room, their tension is _ridiculous_.”

“Is it as ridiculous as the tension between you and Mister Caleb?”

Molly shut the sink off. He turned around.

“Mister Clay, I’m not quite certain what your meaning is.”

For a long, long while, Caduceus stared at Molly. Then he just nodded, and turned back to the stove, and put the lid back onto the skillet.

“My mistake,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t keep the steam in for long enough.”

“Er…that should be fine,” Molly said, thrown by this change in subject. “I can’t imagine it would ruin the dish, would it?”

“It could,” Caduceus said, “if I’m not careful.”

Mystified, Molly leaned in. “That’s alright, though, isn’t it, dear? I mean…it was already quite nice of you to volunteer to cook for us both, if worst comes to worst I’d be happy to call up the Garden of Marquet for some takeout…?”

Caduceus’s tiny smile returned. “Don’t worry. We’re still on track. I think dinner’s gonna be just fine.”

Despite the lingering confusion, Molly grinned. “Well, then. That _is_ good news, isn’t it?”

Caduceus watched the wisps of heat curl off his soon-to-be stir-fry.

“It’s great news,” he nodded happily. “It’s just absolutely wonderful.”

\--------------------------------------

“You look cheerful,” Caleb mused as he watched Nott climb in through the kitchen window that night. “Did you steal something particularly interesting?”

Nott beamed and scuttled down from the counter. “Nope!” she announced. “ _I_ didn’t, anyways. But there is some stealing going on, vis-à-vis in the matters of love and the heart.”

Caleb sat the table for a while, staring up from his bills, trying to decipher what she had just said. Eventually he went with:

“…Nott, are you in _love_?”

She waltzed into the living room to go and harass Frumpkin.

“Nope!” she declared. “But I know for almost certain that  _someone_ is.”

\--------------------------------------

Today | 8:42PM

 **Yasha:** good evening  
**Yasha:** I just ah  
**Yasha:** I just wanted to let you know that I will be back soon  
**Yasha:** probably?  
**Yasha:** sooooo  
**Yasha:** you do not need to worry about me, or anything  
**Yasha:** um  
**Yasha:** yes, that is the end of this message  
**Yasha:** er, nice conversation  
**Yasha:** good night, now

Slowly, very slowly, Beau set her container of curry down. For a minute that felt like a year in a second, she just stared and stared at her phone in bewilderment.

The light eventually went out. And then, as if snapping out of a daze, Beau dove for the kitchen counter and swiftly scooped up her cell.

 **Beau:** Yasha???  
**Beau:** uhhhh  
**Beau:** cool?  
**Beau:** thanks for letting me know  
**Beau:** yeah  
**Beau:** that was real cool of you  
**Beau:** for doing that

She waited and waited, but no response came. And a few long hours later, as she lay there in bed and scrolled through the messages one last time, it occurred to her that this was probably the very first time Yasha had ever initiated a conversation between them on her own. 

Beau stayed awake for quite a long while after that, trying to figure out what this meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did please please consider leaving Comments/Kudos! Y'all's reaction to (finally) getting Caduceus into the story last chapter really motivated me to get this one out!! 
> 
> I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com)! All my drabbles and such are on that page, and you may have heard that I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!
> 
> (Also: my girlfriend is visiting next week for thanksgiving, and I've got HELLA work this week, so if the next update is a day or two late, that's why!! <3333)


	17. The Snap of Fresh Spices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Fjord's existential Crisis, Beau Tries to Help, Nott is Nosy, Molly Visits the Library, Caleb has a Crisis of His Own and Taryon Darrington's At it Again

“I just don’t see your point,” Fjord said the next morning as they sat in the gym post-workout, waiting for their breath to even out again. “That _can’t_ be okay.”

“Ah,” Beau nodded, “but it _is_. I mean, it’s like this, right? Offense, of _course_ , is supposed to be aggressive. Otherwise how’s anyone gonna get anything done? But defense,” and here she leaned in and tapped Fjord on the knee, “defense is _also_ supposed to be aggressive. Who ever heard of passive defenders?”

“Right,” said Fjord, taking a swig of his water bottle, “but I still think sucker-punching your opponent in an alleyway, two weeks after the game is over, counts as a technical foul."

“Well, who’s to know if it really happened?” Beau shrugged. “Neither of ‘em has any _actual_ proof, and there was no ref behind that Pizza Express. Just two dicks, the gods, and a lot of uneaten crusts.”

Fjord briefly debated the merits of continuing this argument. Very quickly, he decided to just sigh and move on. He stood, headed towards the counter, grabbed a handful of rags from the dispenser and got started on wiping down their exercise machines.

“You know,” Beau mused as he worked, “speaking of fistfights and gods, I’ve actually been meanin’ to ask you something.”

He walked over to Machine 2. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leaned back, arms crossed and tone thoughtful. “That fight we had, with the clockwork-y thing, that was…something, right?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah. That certainly was.”

“And…and we didn’t do too bad, right?” she continued. “Like…sure, we got our asses kicked for a while, and my knuckles are _still_ a little blue two weeks later, and the nightstick practically disintegrated when I brought it home, but, like…it wasn’t _so_ bad, was it?”

Fjord had to consider this for a moment.

“Didn’t…didn’t Caleb almost _die,_ Beau? Didn’t a spear go through his _chest_?”

She scratched her chin. “Right, right, yeah, okay,” she conceded, “yeah, sure. And that sorta thing would’ve killed a lesser guy or gal or nonbinary individual—”

“—yeah, no _kidding_ —”

“—but it didn’t!” Beau sat up and waved a hand around. “You see, that’s the thing, right? It _didn’t_ kill him. We saw ‘im yesterday, badly flirting with Molly and being too weak to move boxes around by himself!”

“He nearly died, I’m not sure you should say that—”

“But he _didn’t_ die, Fjord. And we didn’t even have to go to a hospital, or nothin’. All we had to do, right, was finish the fight! And then Jester ran up, hands all glowin’ with holy light and stuff, and she fixed him! And he’s totally good, now!”

Fjord’s cloth faltered against the handle of Weight Machine 3. “I’m not sure Caleb is… _totally_ good. I mean, somethin’ like that, it’s gotta be traumatic, right?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Trauma’s nothing new, right? All of us’ve got our own weird shit to deal with, his can’t be _that_ bad.”

“Again, maybe a _little_ sensitivity—”

“Fjord, don’t _you_ have baggage that’s been bugging you too?”

He stopped. He stared at the rag between his fingers. After a few more seconds, he walked back over and sat down next to Beau.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “yeah, _maybe_. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

She shrugged. “I dunnno. I guess…I saw you throwin’ around _plenty_ of weird spheres of green lights and things at the prison. And before, you told me that your past stuff’s got a lot to do with the magic you have now, and that you were gonna try looking within yourself for the answers to find out what you’re going through. You remember that, right?”

“Sort of?” Fjord shrugged. “More or less.”

Beau met his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Well, then?” she asked. “You seemed pretty confident when we were fighting. Did you get a good look? Did you find the answer?”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t think it’s _that_ easy. I’m not sure I can just _do_ that. I mean, it’s not like I even know what I’m looking for, and even if I _had_ the solution, I’m not sure how to, I dunno, how to make myself talk.”

“We- _ell_ …it’s funny you should say that, actually.” Beau’s tone suddenly took on a strange little tint, and she started to stretch in a way that made her triceps catch the light. “Because, uh…because this _could_ be a long shot, but do you remember that time, it was a long time ago, but I, uh, I volunteered to punch the information out of you?”

Fjord’s eyebrows shot up. “Er…kind of?” he said. “Why, what’re you suggesting?”

“That, well, that we try it.”

He moved back ever-so-slightly on the bench. “ _What_?”

“I think it might _really_ help you!” Beau said as earnestly as she could. “I bet there’s tons of stuff that you don’t even know that you know about yourself, and this could give you all the answers! All I gotta do is hit you a few times!”

He immediately shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, back up, are you being _serious_? Is this…is this magic, or something?”

“It’s not really _magic_ , more…the results of a month of deep meditative study and reflection and also of getting the shit kicked outta me.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s magic. _Monk_ magic.”

Fjord rubbed his chin. “And…and you _really_ think that this is going to help me?”

“Absolutely!” Beau grinned. “Is that a ‘yes’, then?”

He gave her a look of utter, terrified trepidation.

“It’s…gods, it’s a _cautious_ yes, with the understandin’ that if this doesn’t go well on the first try, right away you’ll stop.”

“Oh, definitely,” Beau nodded. “You got my word on that.”

Very slowly, she cracked the knuckles on her left hand. Fjord heard them _pop_ , and he swallowed nervously.

“Al…alright. Okay. So…what, then, you just punch me, and answers’ll come spillin’ out?”

She cracked the knuckles on her right hand. He swallowed again.

“Yeah,” Beau grinned. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

And then two fists came out of nowhere, slammed into Fjord’s gut and threw him up off the bench, down onto the floor with a sickening _thunk_ and the iron-clad assurance that tomorrow, that maybe even tonight, he would have some heavy, _heavy_ bruising.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 10:05AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** you know, I’m not even sure why I bother texting you, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** its not like im going to get an answer!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but, alas, my good breeding wont allow me to drop in on you completely unannounced  
**Molly Tealeaf:** this isn’t a live conversation, so you couldn’t see me snicker as I said “good breeding”  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I didn’t forget your offer to come to the library!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and even though you wont read this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im heading over soon!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** see ya here ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 

\--------------------------------------

“Holy _shit_ ,” Beau said, through shock, through laughter, and through only mild regret, “holy shit, I’m so sorry. Here, here, holy _shit_.”

She helped a very dazed and very confused Fjord sit up on the ground.

He rubbed his head and waggled his tongue a few times. His mouth tasted a bit like blood, a bit like cotton, and a bit like a solid five minutes of spilling secret after secret after dark and no-longer-unspoken secret.

He glanced up at Beau. “What the…what the _hell_ just happened?” he asked.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 10:16AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** gods, I had better not regret this

\--------------------------------------

The snap of fresh spices, melting chocolates, warm cookies, hung light and careless over the Pentamarket this morning, weaving through the crowds that mingled about its cobbled square for another busy day of holiday shopping. The weather this week was the chilliest so far of the year, and fathers and mothers had bundled their children up in thick parkas, couples were holding hands to keep warm, and a number individuals had found the free hot coca stand and were sidling on in for another round of delightful sin.

On any other day, Nott would have joined them. But right now, at this time, she was on a mission.  

It was actually the same mission as yesterdays’. But this time, she was determined not to get distracted.

To the left, from her vantage point three feet down, she saw a hand slip into a nearby pocket, saw a few coins glint in the morning sun.

Well, okay. Maybe a _little_ distraction would be alright.

\--------------------------------------

Beau and Fjord relocated to the Sieversii College café, near-empty since most students were away on break. It was the perfect place for two unlikely friends in need of something sweet, and a quiet place to figure out what they would do next.

“Did that really happen?” Fjord asked, nursing a coffee between his hands. “Did I really…say all of that?"

“You bet.” Beau lifted a peppermint mocha to her lips. “But, to be fair, I knew most of that, already.”

“Yeah,” Fjord murmured, “but I can’t help but feel a little…exposed.”

She hesitated, reached forward as if to put a hand on his shoulder, and then thought better of it. “Er…sorry,” she said instead. “I guess I didn’t realize how powerful it would be. And, uh, I didn’t mean it to be like that.”

“I know,” he sighed. “And it wasn’t really your _fault_. We’re just gonna agree to never try that again, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” she said, taking a quick sip, “don’t mention it.”

Fjord put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “The good news is,” he muttered, “at least now you know the whole story, and you can help me out. What do you think all of it means?”

Beau considered this for a moment. Then she reached into her backpack, dug around for a bit, and produced a pen. She grabbed a handful of napkins off the nearest table and spread them out between their drinks.

“O-kay,” she said, tapping the pen to her chin. “Alright, from the top. You’re in a shipping accident, and you wash up on the coast of Port Damali.”

She wrote “ _Shipwreck, Wake up on Beach,_ ” on the napkin in the middle, and circled it. Fjord nodded.

“And there’s a sword there too, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just lyin’ there in the sand next to me.”

She added that to the napkin, drew a circle around it and connected it to the original bubble.

Then she tapped her chin again. “And then you start having dreams, right?” she asked. “Dreams that tell you to do things.”

“To grow,” Fjord agreed. “And…and provoke, and…consume.”

Beau wrote these things down, connected it to the original bubble.

“And there’s an eye that tells you this, right?” she asked. “Or, you said that you _see_ an eye during your dreams, was that it?”

“It’s somethin’ like that, yeah,” he conceded. “Some kind of glowing thing, at the bottom of the ocean.”

Beau added “ _ocean_ ” and added “ _eye_ ” to the napkins. She connected these to the “dream” bubble.

“You’ve also got powers now,” she murmured, almost half to herself. “Powers that appeared when the dreams did, and powers that seem to follow the same sort of general aesthetic of creepy underwater eldritch horror.”

“I wouldn’t, uh, I wouldn’t exactly call it that—” Fjord began, then sighed as Beau added “ _magic_ ” and “ _power_ ” and “ _spooky sea aesthetic_ ” to their napkin-map.

“It’s a _little_ scary, you gotta admit,” she said, connecting all these to the “dream” bubble.

He sighed again, but didn’t stop her. “There’s also, uh, there’s also something else with the powers,” he noted. “You remember that sword I had, during the fight? I…I _made_ that, with magic, somehow. I just sorta summoned it, and it appeared in my hands.”

Beau raised her eyebrows. “ _That’s_ the sword from the beach, you mean?”

He nodded. She thought about this, then drew a line between “ _sword_ ” and “ _magic_.”

She stared at the web for a moment. Then she tapped the “power” bubble with the end of her pen.

“There was…one other thing the eye told you, right?” she murmured. “You said it had another command. You said it…it kept telling you… _reward_.”

Fjord fidgeted in his seat. He glanced down at the napkins, and nodded.

She wrote “ _REWARD"_  on an empty bit of napkin. Then she connected it to the sword, magic, and power bubbles. And after another moment’s consideration, she drew another circle around “ _spooky sea aesthetic_ ” and brought that into the pattern too.

She glanced up at Fjord. “I think the eye is trying to tell you something,” she murmured. “I think it wants you to _do_ something, and it’s giving you all these things as a sort of preemptive, you know…reward.”

“But why _me_?” he asked, shaking his head. “And what could it possibly want me to _do_?”

She put the cap back on her pen, and tapped one of the circles.

“Provoke,” she read. “Consume. And…grow.”

\--------------------------------------

A bell chimed over the door as Nott made her way inside, which was annoying because she had been trying to enter as inconspicuously as possible.

Unfortunately, instead of just slipping peacefully into the shadows the way she intended, Nott was immediately spotted by the handful of people currently minding their own business in the sun-lit, sweet-smelling, warm interior of the Crimson Feather.

Most of them were just customers. They had come in for a reprieve from the weather and gotten distracted by the racks of handmade clothing and small metal trees draped with jewelry. One was a halfling, two were elves, another seemed to be some kind of dragonborn with gleaming silver scales that shimmered in the sunlight. Added into their large stature, booming voice, and ability to breathe fire—was it fire? Nott was never sure—at a moment’s notice, they should have been the most interesting person in the room.

As it happened, they were not.

Seated peacefully behind the counter, instead, was the most interesting person indeed. Her height, even sitting, put the dragonborn’s to shame. She wore a simple blue dress, of a pattern and design that Nott had never seen before, and had a wide, welcoming smile that half-hid behind the forest of curly black hair that cascaded down around her cheeks.

This hair was not the same soft brown as the hair on the rest of her face. Or arms. Or chest. Or, really, her entire body.

This was another firbolg. One of two, in the room.

Nott only had a second to react to the streak of brown and red suddenly rocketing towards her, what was apparently some kind of hyperactive, furry bullet, which was so confusing and unexpected that Nott barely realized it was speaking when she threw herself out of its path.

“Mom, Mom, Mom, look! Look, Mom, look, there’s another kid!”

The woman behind the counter chuckled, and the rest of the customers went back to their browsing.

Nott picked herself up and dusted off her jacket and faced her attacker with a fair amount of indignancy.

“I am _not_ a kid,” she said. “Not a…whoa, what are _you_?”

The little boy beamed at her. “I’m Asar. What’s your name?”

Nott had to appreciate that this was his first question. Especially since he was only a foot or so taller than her, which meant he was staring her straight in the eye, and was surely able to see through her not-very-good disguise.

Her walls clattered down.

“Nott,” she said, and held out a hand. “I’m, uh…it’s nice to meet you.”

Asar glanced over her shoulder, pointed back up to the counter. “That’s my mom,” he said excitedly. “This is our store. Do you want to take a look around?”

She blinked a few times, glanced down at the fur-covered hand that still had not released hers, glanced over at the enormous woman sitting behind the counter.

“Sure,” she said, shrugging and giving up. “Yeah, sure. But first, I gotta know something. Is there a person named ‘Caduceus’ who works in this store with you?”

Asar’s eyes lit up. “You know my cousin?” he asked excitedly. “You know Caddy too?”

This was a fascinating thread of news. Nott tugged, to see where it would lead.

“Yup. Is he here, today? I sure would like to talk to him.”

“He’s in the back,” Asar’s mother called gently. “You two can go on in, but be careful. There’s not a lot of room.”

Without even missing a beat, the little boy took off. And with a sigh, and a glint in her eye at how interesting today had suddenly gotten, Nott adjusted her mask, stuck her hands into her pockets, and followed Asar across the floor and around the counter, towards a thick purple curtain that waved gently as the boy ducked past.

“I’m Nila,” said the firbolg woman just as Nott was about to slip in after him. “It’s nice to meet you, small one.”

Nott glanced up. She smiled, even though her face was mostly hidden.

“I’m Nott,” she said again. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Nila nodded. “Well then,” and her voice felt like honey on a fresh-baked slice of bread, “you should go on ahead. Caduceus is by himself right now, he could probably use the company.”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “You’re alright with me going back there?” she asked. “You don’t even know me.”

Nila’s dark eyes glittered as she glanced Nott up and down.

“I’ve got a good feeling about you,” she shrugged, and turned back around to survey her store once more. “Have fun with the boys. Try to keep them out of trouble.”

Nott’s smile grew. She bowed slightly, and nodded. “You got it, Miss Nila. I’ll try to do my best.”

And then she too left, through the heavy curtain and off into the rooms beyond.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb had just fished his “Librarian on Break, Be Back Soon” sign from out under his desk when the front doors blew open and chilly air swept across the quiet lobby. He glanced up, brushed the hair from his eyes, and suddenly found himself face-to-face with the winning—if slightly nervous—grin of Mollymauk Tealeaf.

He was leaning expectantly against the counter, cheeks flushed from the cold. His outrageous parka was zipped up to the collar and his tail, swishing around slowly behind him, wore a tiny hat covering the spade.

This would have distracted a saner man. Caleb was unfazed.

Instead, he sat back down and gave Molly as friendly of a smile as he dared.

“Good, er…morning,” he said. “How can I help you?”

Molly rolled his eyes and sagged against the counter. His grin turned into a pout. “Are you always so stiff at work, dear?” he asked. “If I knew I’d be dealing with serious-Caleb today, I would’ve brought my dress.”

Caleb snorted, felt the temperature around him begin to thaw. “Sorry, sorry,” he sighed. “It has been a slow morning. I _am_ glad to see you here. But, er…why _are_ you here?”

“Why, I’m here because you asked me to be!” At the sight of Caleb’s sharp expression, Molly sheepishly lowered his voice. “Sorry, dear. I just meant, you’re the one who said I should swing by, yes? When we were helping Caduceus move in.”

A light went off in Caleb’s head. He almost knocked over his stool in excitement.

“Ah, I almost forgot!” he breathed. “ _Ja,_ of course, follow me.”

He made his way around the counter and towards the left, an intrigued Mollymauk following closely behind him.

“We aren’t going off to do deliciously inappropriate things to one another in a back corner of this lovely library, unobserved by prying eyes with a passion made stronger by our time apart, are we?” was what Molly wanted to say. What he actually said, was:

“Wow, there’s a lot of dust back here.”

He mentally smacked himself on the forehead.

“We do not have many people working here,” Caleb shrugged, oblivious to Molly’s inner turmoil. “Someone comes in to clean once a month, and it’s not scheduled for another week or so, at least.”

“It’s a shame, how little the government cares about you.”

“ _Ja_ , but on the bright side, the government _really_ doesn’t care about us.”

Molly grinned. “Now, now, what kind of tomfoolery can a gaggle of _librarians_ get up to?”

“Oh, you know.” Caleb’s lips quirked upwards. “The occasional homicide, a fair bit of arson, a few times I have gotten my hands on books that were not meant for the public, or really anybody else, to see.”

“Is that so?”

Caleb merely shrugged again and winked. It sent butterflies down Molly’s spine.

Eventually, after passing a few more shelves, the two of them reached an aisle that was perhaps even more dusty than the rest. Caleb came to a stop before this hay fever-inducing monolith and spun around with a grand smile, with arms held out wide.

“Here we are,” he announced. “This is the surprise I had for you. Take a look.”

Molly rolled his eyes. “It looks like what I warned you not to show me,” he sighed, but leaned in anyways because this was Caleb. He had to hold his breath to prevent himself from sneezing, as he began a cursory glance over the titles, and then pulled back almost immediately with surprise.

“What…what _are_ those?” He blinked a few times. “They aren’t books, are they?”

“Not at all.” Caleb’s grin was the closest to shit-eating that Molly had ever seen on the man before.

“Then what are they?” he asked. He leaned in again, closer this time, and prodded the nearest cover. “These aren’t…wait, these aren’t ‘cassettes,’ are they? Because I heard Jester mention them once, and based on her description, a dusty corner is exactly where I’d expect to find them.”

Caleb was so thrown by this that he burst into laughter. “Very funny, Mollymauk, no, these are—wait. Are you being serious?”

Molly shrugged. “No need to be mean about it.”

Now it was Caleb’s turn to blink in surprise. “I am just…you have _never_ seen a cassette before?”

“ _Should_ I have?”

Caleb considered this for a moment. “I mean…maybe? I suppose it depends on where you grew up, but I was _dirt-poor_ , and we even had a couple lying around the town.”

“Before my time, maybe?” Molly said as nonchalantly as possible.

Caleb opened his mouth, and then paused. A faint memory stirred at the edge of his mind. “You… _scheisse_ , right, you are, er…new, yes?”

Molly snorted. “Sure. Yeah. _New_.”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Er…remind me again, how long have you been around?”

“Two years. More or less. But I’m not a two-year-old, if that’s what you’re—”

“No, no, I understand that,” Caleb said hastily. “It is just…I suppose I had forgotten about that conversation.”

“A lot _did_ happen pretty soon after that. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I have a perfect memory, though,” Caleb muttered, leaning against a shelf and covering his shoulder in dust. “I usually never forget anything.”

“We were also extremely drunk.”

“ _Ja_ , okay, that would do it. Er…anyways,” he said, shaking his head and snapping himself out of it, “anyways, no. These are not cassettes, though they mind as well be just as archaic. These are CDs. Audiobooks.”

Molly considered the rows and rows of short cases in front of him.

“Audiobooks,” he repeated softly.

“ _Ja, stimmt_.”

“What?”

“Yes, you are correct,” Caleb repeated. “These are audiobooks. You told me yesterday, the problem is that you do not enjoy the actual _act_ of reading itself, _ja_?”

Molly nodded immediately. “It’s boring.”

“Well,” and here Caleb pulled the nearest dust-covered case off the shelf, “that is not a problem, with these! They are recordings of books. Someone else can read the story _to_ you, and you can do other things. Like, er…I do not know, exactly, but I suppose anything would do.”

He handed it over to Molly, who took it carefully between his hands. A faint smile was beginning to creep across his face.

“So,” he said slowly, “what you’re saying to me, is that _this_ way, I can enjoy the story without needing to actually do the reading.”

“Exactly,” Caleb said. His own smile hung bright in the dim air. “Pretty good, _ja_?”

Molly glanced down at the CD. He looked back up, and caught Caleb’s soft expression.

“Mister Caleb,” he said quietly, “I believe this may very well be one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

The wizard’s cheeks immediately flushed. “Oh, er…is that so?” he asked. “I…well, that is…good to know. But this was…this was not _that_ big a deal, I am just doing my job as a librarian—”

Molly held his hands up, and Caleb stopped.

“Maybe so,” he murmured. “But I’d also like to think you did this because we are, um…maybe because we are important to each other? Maybe?” he added again, almost as an afterthought.

Caleb sighed, wanted to shake his head, wanted to argue, but there was _such_ a hopeful tilt to Molly’s voice, and right now, in this moment, alone, together, in the quiet corners of the library behind the tall stacks of shelves with the sunlight streaming in through a tiny window above—

—the protest fell silent on his tongue.

He nodded.

Molly reached up. Maybe a little nervously, maybe a little cautiously, but his hand found purchase on Caleb’s arm. Their gazes locked together.

“Thank you for caring,” he murmured. “And…thank you for not trying to change me.”

Caleb found himself frowning. “Change you?” he echoed.

Molly shrugged. “You didn’t try to force me to do what most people do,” he explained. “You found something else, that worked in a different way.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Of course, but that is my job—”

There was an audible sigh, and Caleb paused. He tried again.

“You are…my friend.”

For a breath in a second, Molly’s expression faltered. Caleb was instantly terrified that he had done something wrong, but then that smile returned at full force, radiant and almost _too_ cheerful to be real.

Though, Caleb was so relieved to see it come back that he didn't even notice. He cracked a grin of his own and nodded along.

“So he _can_ be taught!” Molly was laughing. “Good to finally see something sink in to that nerdy head of yours, eh?”

Caleb rolled his eyes, teasingly swatted Molly’s hand away. The tiefling grinned even wider, spun with the momentum and turned back towards the shelves and, after a second to glance over and wink, started searching through titles for anything that struck his fancy.

And in this moment, alone, together, as Caleb leaned back and crossed his arms, as he watched Molly flit through the shelves with an excitement that could burn through any darkness, with such a _life_ that could shine through any fog, Caleb felt his heartbeat accelerate just a pinch. He remembered the day they had gone skating, remembered the feelingof that _rush_ , of their fingers laced together, and Molly’s smile in the stars, and his laughter in the night all twirling across the ice. 

Something made Caleb want to take a step closer. Something made him want to lend his friend an extra hand. Something made him want to make a few more recommendations, right into Molly’s ear— _what?_

Gods, _that_ was a dangerous thought. And a new one, too. Where were these ideas coming from? Caleb found himself suddenly taking a step backward, found himself suddenly choking on the dust in the air, suddenly wanting to duck behind a shelf, to make off to the nearest exit and run before the weight of this feeling could grab him by the ankles and drag him down into a pool of fear and regret and—

And then Molly turned, grinned brightly, waved a handful of CDs around in the air.

“I think this is all,” he announced. “This should be enough to get me started, eh, Mister Caleb?”

A jolt went up Caleb’s spine. He felt the world realign, and he forced himself to relax.

“ _Ja,_ that is certainly going to keep you busy for a while,” he said. “You are, ah, done, for now?”

“For now,” Molly answered cheerfully. “If this works out, Mister Caleb, you might just end up having yourself a new regular.”

Caleb snorted. Color and sound returned to normal. “Well, that is good,” he nodded. “We could use that to get some more funding. Come on, then. Time to go back to the front, and then I can get you signed up for a card.”

“Ooh,” Molly waggled his eyebrows. “A card, just for me?”

“Yes, just for you,” Caleb agreed. “Aren’t you special?”

“I sure would like to think so,” Molly laughed. Caleb couldn’t help but join in.

And as they turned back around and headed off towards the lobby, he tried not to think about how it had felt to have Molly’s hand against his arm. How it had felt to see the tiefling smile. How it had felt, at the very end, to hear Molly laugh.

To hear him say that they cared for one another.

To realize, that he was right.

Caleb shoved his hands into his pockets. He buried his chin into his collar, and the whole time—as they filled out forms and checked out the CDs, as Caleb listened to the banter slip in around his shoulders, hug him in close, taper off in confused politeness as Molly realized Caleb wasn’t responding—he felt terrible.

So terrible, that he had to _force_ himself to make eye contact and wave as Molly scooped the audiobooks into his bag and left with a puzzled, still-friendly, but perhaps just a bit pained of a smile.

And as the door swung shut with a final gust of chilly air, Caleb sank down onto his stool and dropped his forehead to the counter. He needed advice, he realized. He needed someone who would understand what was happening. He needed some _serious_ help.

And the worst of it was, a big part of him still didn’t really understand _why_.

\--------------------------------------

“He’s not _really_ my cousin,” Caduceus said as he watched Asar dutifully folding shirts to put away into a nearby drawer, delighted at having been so helpful today. “He just likes to call me that.”

“How do your families know each other?” Nott asked curiously. She was perched atop a pile of boxes, almost eye-level with a standing Caduceus. The storage room the three of them were in should’ve felt more spacious, but grown firbolgs tended to require a lot of space. Luckily they had had some time to adjust to this, in the hour Nott had been camping out here.

“Her tribe has a plot in the Blooming Grove,” he explained. “They swing by every once in a while for business, and Nila and her partner stayed behind after a ceremony once to help us clean up. It was very kind of them.”

“And now she’s given you a job?” Nott asked.

“Exactly. Pass me that little notebook, please?”

She glanced around, found a small green booklet resting on a box next to her, and handed it over.

“Do you like living in the city?” she asked after he had thumbed through a few pages and written something down. “Is it what you expected?”

Caduceus shrugged. “I wasn’t really expecting anything in particular, so I don’t know. It’s loud here.”

“It _is_!” Nott agreed excitedly. “It took me _forever_ to get used to that. I even wore ear mufflers, for the first few months.”

“Really? Did it help?”

“Only a little bit. Did you sell any tea, yet?”

“Not yet,” Caduceus said. “But it’s only the first day. We’ve got a display table out near the front, and I saw some people takin’ a look. I’ve got real high hopes, so far.”

He leaned down to examine a shelf, and Nott nodded.

“That’s good to know,” she said. “ _I_ think your tea is a little…odd, but I’m sure people will like it.”

“Mom likes it,” Asar volunteered. “Dad thinks it’s a nov-el-ty.”

He pronounced the word carefully, testing the syllables against his tongue.

“Mister Mollymauk certainly likes it,” Caduceus said. “And he seems to know a lot about the people here.”

“Yeah,” Nott muttered, “he cares a lot about that sort of thing.”

“I got the same impression from him. A real people-pleaser. He likes being liked.”

“Don’t we all?” Nott asked.

Caduceus shrugged, and her eyebrows went up. She leaned towards him curiously.

“Are _you_ a people-pleaser, Mister Clay?”

Caduceus lowered his notebook, turned towards her slowly.

“I’m not sure, Miss Nott. What do you think?”

She gave him a long, careful look. Then she raised her arms indecisively.

“I dunno. But I want to find out.”

Caduceus straightened up, and put the notebook back down onto a box. “I have to say, speaking of finding things out, I would quite like to know why you’re here. I doubt it was to spend the last hour helping me and Asar sort sweaters.”

“But it was fun,” Asar chimed in. “I like you, Miss Nott.”

“Me too, kid,” Nott said with a grin. Then she nodded to Caduceus and said, “you’re right, though. I mostly just wanted to know where you worked, and what it was like, and figure you out.”

Caduceus leaned in. His tremendously imposing height may have intimidated some people, may have made them nervous and jumpy, but Nott lived in a constant state of anxiety-fueled terror. She’d even purchased a timeshare along its rocky, unhospitable shores.

“Some people might think that’s a bit intrusive,” Caduceus said softly. “Maybe a bit nosy. Pesky.”

She shrugged. “You’re rooming with my friend Molly. He and Jester seem to like you a lot, and everyone else is trying to include you too. I needed to make sure you were good.”

“You care about your friends?”

“Absolutely.”

Caduceus nodded. Then he leaned back and beamed.

“They all seem like really good people,” he said. “I’m honored that they’re trying so hard to welcome me.”

Nott rubbed her chin. And then slowly, very slowly, she grinned.

“You know what, Mister Clay?”

“What, Miss Nott?”

She leaned over and gave Caduceus a pat on the arm.

“I don’t think you’re so bad, yourself.”

\--------------------------------------

Today | 2:09PM

Molly Tealeaf sent a photo  
Molly Tealeaf sent a photo

 **Molly Tealeaf:** allllright, Mister Caleb!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** got home  
**Molly Tealeaf:** figured out how the hell to get that CD into my laptop  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and im starting with “before the rivers dawn”  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I remember this one, actually  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I think you told me about it, a long time ago?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the first time we got coffee together  
**Molly Tealeaf:** well, you’ve hyped it up dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** so i had better enjoy it  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and speaking of enjoyment  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you really know how to show me a time, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** my roommate well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** my new one  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mentioned somethin yesterday about the ‘tension between us’  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im not totally sure what hes going on about  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but, well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** something about today gave me the feeling that I could start to understand  
**Molly Tealeaf:** that is  
**Molly Tealeaf:** up until a certain point, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** enough from me!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** time to loose myself in the wonders of an audiobook  
**Molly Tealeaf:** see you in a few hours dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive got a sewing project to do, and now ive got something to listen to  
**Molly Tealeaf:** oh, right!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you 

\--------------------------------------

Fjord came home that night bearing a plastic bag of Marquesian takeout in one hand, and a bottle of $10-$20 wine in the other. Also weighing down heavily on him—though he much rather would have preferred if they didn’t—were the events of today’s craziness all swimming bewildered laps through the confused folds his brain. And to make matters even worse, was the fact that as he shut the door behind him and looked on toward the living room, Fjord saw Jester huddled on the couch, hunched over her laptop in the near-darkness, weeping openly onto her keyboard and whimpering softly.

His eyes went wide. He took a few steps closer.

“Jester?” he asked carefully. “Jes, are you alright?”

She immediately wiped the wetness from her cheeks, glanced up quickly with a tear-streaked face. Fjord, heart already racing and full of terror, the weight of Beau’s conspiracy-board-napkins still heavy in his pants pocket, prepared himself for her next words to rock him to his very core and rip his soul in two.

But what she said, was this:

“You have to see this, Fjord. It’s…it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Mystified, he set the wine and takeout down onto the counter. He walked into the living room, and Jester moved over on the couch to give him space to sit.

Then she pushed her computer onto his lap. It was open to a video, which she instantly restarted.

“What am I watching?” he asked, still completely caught off-guard by everything that was going on. “What’s—”

“Shhh!” she hissed. “Shh, Fjord, I’m going to start it!”

“Start _what_ , Jes?”

She rolled her eyes, and sighed.

“The trailer, Fjord! The _trailer_. For the most important event of this year! For the latest film from the White Duke-award winning director whose studios brought us _Tusk Love_ , for the movie I’ve been waiting for since last spring, this is it, the one, the only—"

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 7:23PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** FIREFLIES IN THE SNOW!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** ITS HERE, ITS FINALLY HERE  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** AND ITS GOING TO BE AT THE PENTAMARKET  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** TOMORROW  
**Lavender Thunder:** excuse me?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** FIREFLIES IN THE SNOW  
**Seaman:** its, gods, it’s a new movie  
**Seaman:** and Jester is very excited about it  
**Seaman:** this is now our sixth time watching the trailer  
**NottSoBrave:** whats it about?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** GNOMES  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** AND FALLING IN LOVE  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** AND THE HOLIDAYS  
**Drunkmonk:** gods ANOTHER love movie???  
**Drunkmonk:** is it at least by a decent studio  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** IT’S A DARRINGTON FILM  
**Seaman:** yeah  
**Drunkmonk:** NO  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** YES  
**Drunkmonk:** NOT THE TUSK LOVE PEOPLE  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** OH YES THE TUSK LOVE PEOPLE  
**Lavender Thunder:** THIS IS INCREDIBLE NEWS JESTER  
**NottSoBrave:** WE HAVE TO GO SEE IT  
**Lavender Thunder:** WHEN IS THE SHOWING  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** TOMORROW  
**Lavender Thunder:** right, but  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** excuse me, sorry to interrupt you guys  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** Im a little lost  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** whats happing?  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** whats tusk love  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** CADUCUES  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** don’t worry we’ll get you to see the greatest cinematic masterpiece sooner or later  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** but tomorrow, you should come with us to see the other movie!! I think you might like it, and even if you don’t, you can just come along for the bonding like beau does  
**Drunkmonk:** hella  
**Drunkmonk:** the movies are serious trash  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** well I definitely wont turn down an invitation  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** I get off work at 2 though, if that’s alright?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** that’s perfect!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** movie’s at 6, and youll already be at the Pentamarket, right?  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** oh yeah  
**Lavender Thunder:** actually, if you all aren’t busy before the show, why don’t we all just meet up there and get some shopping done?  
**Lavender Thunder:** I hate to admit it, but I haven’t actually gotten my Wichteln present yet  
**Drunkmonk:** oh shit me neither  
**NottSoBrave:** uh me neither  
**Seaman:** hard same  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** uh, sorry again  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** still playing a bit of catch-up, here  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀** **):** your whats?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** oh MAN  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** we can explain it all tomorrow  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** during our shopping adventure!!!!! 

“And then,” Jester beamed, mouth full of spinach and excitement on her tongue, eyes glittering as she grinned, “and then, after we get all the present stuff done, we can go see that movie!”

Her enthusiasm, her _cheer_ , was contagious. Fjord felt the day’s worries slowly begin to ebb, and he reached across the table, nudged their buzzing phones aside, to gently take her by the hand.

“Sure, Jes,” he grinned. “And then, we can go see that movie.”

\--------------------------------------

“You don’t seem very happy about it,” Nott said carefully, watching Caleb pick at a sausage forlornly with his fork. “Is it what Beau said? Are you offended that she isn’t excited for the new movie?”

“No, _nein_ , that is not it,” Caleb sighed. “I just…well…something happened, today. Something strange. Something new.”

Nott raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked. “New like what? In a good way, or a bad way?”

Caleb poked his dinner some more. “I am not sure yet, _spatz,_ ” he murmured. “I am still mulling it over. But…this trip with the group, it is worrying me. I thought I would have more time to think things over, before seeing M…before I have to find my answer.”

Nott’s other eyebrow went up. “Do you not want to go, then?” she asked. “Because it’s fine if you don’t, we don’t _have_ to—”

“No, no, we should go,” Caleb said hastily. “It sounds like a lot of fun, and it is good for us all to do this together. Besides, I also have not gotten my present for Wichteln yet. It is a good chance to get that out of the way.”

“And to see the most important movie of the year!” Nott added enthusiastically. “Just…are you sure you’ll be alright?” she asked in a softer tone. “There isn’t…I dunno, there isn’t anything _I_ can do, is there?"

Caleb gave her a weak smile. He pushed his plate towards her, and waved a hand to indicate that it was hers. “I’m not very hungry,” he said. “Would you like to help me finish the rest?”

Nott rolled her eyes, but pulled his dinner in closer regardless. “That’s not what I meant,” she giggled, spearing a sausage in one fell swoop. “And I’m being serious!” She shoved it into her mouth. “Just say the word, and I’ll do whatever you want. You need someone killed? I got it. You need someone robbed? I’ll do it.”

Caleb snorted. “That is a…concerning amount of loyalty, _spatz_ , but sure. I will let you know if either of those things are necessary. It just…well, it depends, _ja_?”

“On what?” she asked, through chews.

“On what tomorrow holds,” he sighed. “I do not know…hah, perhaps it may even provide the answer I am looking for.”

Nott scooped some potatoes into her mouth, where they met a gruesome end. “You think?”

Caleb tried to find a good answer to give her. After a few moments of thinking, he just shrugged.

“Maybe it will, _spatz_ ,” he murmured. “I suppose for now, all that we can do is hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did please please consider leaving Comments/Kudos! Y'all's amazing comments are really keeping me going, and I really really appreciate you guys with all my lil writer heart <3
> 
> I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock)All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, and you may have heard that I've gotten myself into [another grand ficlet extravaganza](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/tagged/2.5k-fic-request) if you need something to hold yourself over between updates! I've only got 4 more left, and I super duper promise I'll get 'em done soon!!
> 
> <333333333


	18. Fireflies in the Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaat is this??? An update? On Tuesday Night? That's 7.7K? Even though I told you I had finals coming up and CRAZY homework to do? 
> 
> It's called "I procrastinated so hard that I wrote 16 pages today and sometimes things just happen"
> 
> Strap in, kids, this one is a DOOZY

Afternoon in the city, on the weekends, in a major market square, was always a sight to behold. Even more so during the holiday season, when strings of lights glittered against the sky and gold ribbons adorned every street lamp, silver tinsel danced across the storefronts and the smell of hot cocoa wafted through the air.

New Dawn was only a week away now, and the frantic scramble to find perfect gifts had whipped up into a frenzy. The Mighty Nein practically had to hold hands to stay together through the bustling crowd, and Nott had opted for riding Caleb’s shoulders to avoid getting swept away. Similarly, perched up on Yasha, bouncing along to the gait of their stroll and her feathers ruffling in the breeze, was another special friend who had been retrieved for this particular adventure.

“Your name is Kiri?” Caduceus rumbled, adjusting his bag to fit over his shoulder. “Is that short for anything?”

“Yes, I’m very sweet,” she chirped back.

He nodded in mild confusion. “It’s short for you being sweet?”

“That’s the good shit,” she agreed, and three other faces immediately whirled around to scold her.

“ _Küken,_ what did we tell you about swearing—” Caleb started.

“I hope you weren’t sayin’ that around the Shusters—” Fjord began.

“Beau, why did you talk like that in front of her?" Nott sighed. “Kiri's still too little to use those words!”

Kiri shook her wings out in an apologetic shrug, but still cooed mischievously when Beau sent her a wink.

Meanwhile, Jester had rolled her eyes at the rest of her friends. “You guys are too strict!” she declared. “My momma let me swear _all_ the time, she said it builds a healthy respect for the power of words."

“No,” Caleb muttered, “mispronouncing spells will do that. Swearing just makes adults mad at you.”

“Boring adults,” Jester countered. “ _Mean_ adults. I think—”

She continued her tirade as the group followed her through the main street of the Winter Market. Most of the Mighty Nein were appropriately bundled up for the weather, Molly having donned a faux fur coat and Nott wearing long knitted covers over her ears. Kiri sported a small woolen hat with a bauble crammed over her head, and Caleb had added a second scarf to his collection. Fjord was dressed in so many layers that he had essentially made himself bulletproof. Only Yasha and Caduceus (who had just exchanged unnaturally relaxed introductions) seemed unbothered by the cold. The latter thanks to his thick white fur, the former probably due to her general and overall badassery.

Of course, there was also Jester, who waltzed around like she was _born_ for freezing weather. Her cheeks had barely colored and her windbreaker made it seem like she was wearing it more for solidarity than anything else.

“—and actually, anyways,” she was saying, skipping in front of the rest, “I’ve been meaning to ask! Kiri, how _are_ the Shusters? Are they treating you okay? Are you happy?”

“If you aren’t, I’ll fight ‘em,” Nott volunteered. “Well, not the kids, but the parents.”

“I will handle the children,” Yasha shrugged. “If necessary.”

“ _Nein_!” Kiri chirped immediately. “No, no, it is fine.”

“I will never get over that,” Caleb sighed, and Molly shot him a playful smile. From across the group, because either had yet to approach the other today. Caleb was still trying to figure out how he felt about this.

“Time flies, dear,” Kiri continued in Mrs. Shuster’s voice, “I can hardly remember a time you weren’t part of this family. Kiri’s better than Layla,” she added in Austin’s squeak, “she’s way better at hide-and-seek, I want _her_ on my team. Gilda, my love,” Kiri finished in Mr. Shuster’s voice, “ _please_ don’t keep telling the children about how much I snore.”

The gang took a moment to process this.

“So…” Nott said slowly, “you’re happy?”

She trilled brightly in response. “Yes, I’m very sweet!”

\--------------------------------------

“Alllll- _right_ , guys!” Jester declared, with the air of a general addressing her troops, but also that of an overenthusiastic game show host. “Are we ready to re-shuffle?”

There was a chorus of agreement, and Caduceus sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I appreciate you all including me in this,” he said. “I’m sorry to be a bother.”

“Hey, you’re not a bother,” Beau argued instantly. “Besides, I might get someone better this time.”

“Just don’t tell us who you have,” Nott reminded him. “Otherwise we gotta do it again.”

“Right,” he nodded, “I can do that.”

Jester beamed. “Awww, I’m so excited, now!” Then she turned towards Mollymauk, who was standing next to her with Fjord’s ear-flap hat between his hands. “Do you have the names?” she asked.

He shook the hat and grinned. “Everyone’s present and accounted for. Would you mind if I went first?”

“Go for it!”

He stuck a hand into the wooly depths, wiggled around a bit, produced a slip of paper with a flourish. Then he bowed to his friends—though only Yasha and Caduceus applauded—and began making his way around so that the rest could choose their names.

After a few minutes of rustling paper, some sighs of dread and bursts of delight, the Mighty Nein had their assignments.

“Okay, guys,” Jester said, slipping her name into her pocket and tapping a watch on her wrist that did not exist, “we have exactly three hours until we need to be there for the movie! I want you all to meet me back in front of the Song and Supper half an hour before that, so we can buy food to smuggle into my purse. Any questions?”

Caduceus raised his hand. “Which one’s the Song and Supper?” he asked.

“The one closest to free hot chocolate booth. Anyone else?”

“Should we go get our tickets now?” Yasha asked.

“I got them all online, last night. Yes, Nott?"

“Where’s the nearest bathro—"

“Jester really is serious about these things, isn’t she?” Beau murmured as she leaned in towards Fjord. “It’s…terrifying.”

“She’s like a schoolteacher,” he nodded in amazement. “This is the most responsible she’s ever been.”

“How does that make you feel?” Beau whispered back. “Impressed? In love? Hor—”

“Okay!” Jester clapped her hands together, and Fjord was saved from hearing the rest of Beau’s sentence. “We’re wasting valuable shopping time. Come on, guys!” She pumped a fist into the air. “Let’s go get some presents!”

\--------------------------------------

Molly tapped the foggy panel of glass with one hand and gestured excitedly with the other. “What about this?” he asked. “Look at how _shiny_ it is, who could say no to that?”

Yasha, Caduceus, and Kiri by way of shoulder-riding, stood clustered around him before the grand front windows of Quannah Jewels. All of four of them were admiring a display of sparking silver necklaces and gem-encrusted rings, resting on a shelf of black velvet. Molly had dropped into a crouch to get closer, his eyes were glittering like rubies.

Yasha rubbed her chin. “I do not think jewelry would be the best choice,” she said thoughtfully. “For one, it is too expensive.”

“Ah, money is no object, dear! There’s ways around that sort of thing.”

“It is very flashy,” Caduceus noted skeptically. “The emerald is nice, but also a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Really?” Molly pressed his nose closer to the glass. “Are you sure?”

“Are you sure?” Kiri echoed. “It is very flashy.”

“Yes, but flashy can be _good_ , dear. You just have to know how to pull it off.”

“You are the only person I know who could do that,” Yasha chuckled. “I cannot see anyone else in our friend group wearing this, except maybe Jester. You should pick something else for your gift.”

Molly blinked. He turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Gift?” he asked. “Who said anything about gifts? I was thinking of buying this for _me_.”

\--------------------------------------

Beau and Fjord had invaded a specialty chocolates shop at the other side of the Winter Market, and were now currently enjoying the warm and sweet-smelling air. They both stood at the center of the store, trying to avoid eye contact with the sales representative, pretending to be completely immersed in a long wooden table piled high with samples of what was apparently “The Best Zemnian _Schokolade_ in the City.”

Actually, they didn’t have to pretend very hard; Fjord was already on his fifth wrapped truffle and Beau had crammed two fistfuls of chocolate into her pockets.

“I just can’t believe I drew his name _again_ ,” she was grumbling, and her breath was now nearly 60% sugar. “I didn’t know what to get him before, and I still don’t know what to get him now.”

“Something flashy,” Fjord suggested though a mouthful of cacao. “Something so colorful a peacock would see it and drop dead.”

Beau scratched the top of her head. “What about a dead peacock?”

“No, that’s definitely not what I meant.” He reached down and retrieved his sixth sample. “Anyway, Molly’s _easy_ to shop for. I have _no_ _idea_ what I’m supposed to get my person.”

“Who is it?” Beau asked. “It’s not Yasha, is it?”

“No,” Fjord sighed. “And I’m not supposed to tell you, even if it was.”

“Aw, come _on_!” She punched him lightly in the arm. “Tell me!”

He instantly eyed her suspiciously. “You aren’t gonna beat the answer outta me, are you?”

Beau threw her palms up and leaned back. “Hell no,” she said. “I just thought, y’know, fair’s fair. Come on, we’re _besties_ , right?”

He shuddered. “I hate it when you do the Traci voice.”

“…yeah,” she let her shoulders sag, “yeah, I hate it too. Now come on, _spill_.”

Fjord chewed his chocolate mournfully. “It’s _Nott_ ,” he sighed. “Of all people. And don’t get me wrong, I think she’s a lovable little weirdo, but what the _hell_ am I supposed to get for _her_?”

Beau whistled. “That _is_ a tough one. What’re you thinking so far?”

He threw his hands into the air and shrugged magnificently. “Hell, I got _nothin’_. I dunno, meat?”

“ _Meat_?”

And then she paused, and considered this. “Meat, huh? Hmm…meat…”

\--------------------------------------

“Cay-lebb, I am surprised you wanted to come with me!” Jester giggled as they wound their way through the maze of booths that lined the Pentamarket square. “I thought for sure that you would try to run away by yourself to a bookstore."

“Don’t worry,” Nott supplied cheerfully. The crowd was thinner here, so she had climbed down from Caleb’s shoulders and was now plodding along after them. “I wouldn’t have let him go. We need to buy presents, and we need to do it _today_.”

“Besides,” Caleb added, “I came here to spend time with you all, did I not? I plan to make good on that promise.”

Jester beamed, and then before either of them could react, she had grabbed Nott by the hand and Caleb by the shoulder. “That’s great!” she announced. “In that case, let’s walk this way! I want to check out those big knitted ponchos!”

\--------------------------------------

“What do you think?”

“That’s so wonderful!” Kiri trilled.

Yasha grinned in the mirror at the kenku on her shoulders, then raised the sea-spun cardigan up for a better look. “Really?” she asked. “You do not think it is too delicate?”

Molly shoved his way into their reflection, and the conversation. “It’s _gorgeous_!” he gushed, and reached out to feel the fabric. “So soft, too. Yasha, you should try it on! You’d look great in blue.”

She blushed faintly. “Thank you, Mollymauk, but this is not for me. It is my secret present.”

His smile dropped into disappointment. “Ah,” he said, and shrugged. “Well, I’m sure Beau will love it too.”

“Wait, wait,” Kiri said in Nott’s voice. “Does _Molly_ know about this?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking how I knew who her Wichteln was?”

“Obviously they want paper to write on, you little gremlin.”

His other eyebrow went up. “I _definitely_ don’t remember ever saying that. But, er…to answer your question, it’s because of how panicked she looked earlier, when she unfolded the name.”

“I noticed that too,” Caduceus chimed in. “Yasha, did you want someone else?”

Her face had gone even redder. “No, er…wait, no, yes, wait…yes, wait…I am confused by the question.”

Molly reached up and gave her a pat on the arm. “Don’t worry about it, dear.” There was an amused glint in his eye. “It’s a nice sweater.”

“I actually would like one of those, too,” Caduceus added. “Do you think they have any in shades of light green? And in XXXL?”

Molly pursed his lips and looked Caduceus up and down. “You’re quite skinny, dear, that might be _too_ large.”

“Oh, no,” he said pleasantly, chuckling and shaking his head. “No, here the ‘L’ stands for ‘long.’”

\--------------------------------------

“You think, like, a meat- _loaf_ , or maybe some kind of meat pie?”

“Once she ate an entire pack of frozen bacon from my fridge,” Beau shrugged, and crammed a chocolate seashell into her mouth. “I think you’ll be fine with anything.”

\--------------------------------------

“Do you think she would like _this_?” Nott asked, gesturing towards a pair of boots behind a display case. “She likes that sort of thing, right?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb said, “but that store looks _extremely_ expensive. I am not sure we could even afford to go _inside_.”

“Oh, it’s not _that_ fancy,” Jester volunteered. “If you want _fancy_ , you’ve got to go to the Tri-Spires.”

Caleb’s breath was warm in the cold air. “Is that so? Well, then, I am glad we are here instead.”

As they continued to walk, Nott reached up and tugged on his sleeve. “Hey, who d’you suppose has _you_?” she asked. “I hope it’s not Fjord, he has terrible taste in décor.”

“It’s true,” Jester sighed. “All he likes is model ships.”

“I did not think I would be getting furniture,” Caleb said, raising an eyebrow. “Regardless of who has me for the exchange.”

“You never know!” Jester argued. “What if _I_ have you, and I’m planning on getting you a new couch?”

“Then it would be a welcome addition to my apartment. We have a new friend, who is very large and furry, we could probably use the space on movie nights.”

Jester stuck her tongue out at him. It was purple, but not from the cold. “Too bad for you, then, mister. ‘Cause I’ve got someone else.”

Caleb snorted. “Oh, yes? And who might that be?”

She waggled a finger in front of his face. “I’m not telling!” she declared. “Those are the rules, aren’t they?”

“When have you _ever_ wanted to follow rules?” Nott gasped.

Jester grinned hugely. “When it’s funny,” she shrugged. “When it makes the both of you make those faces that you’re making right now!”

\--------------------------------------

“So ham is definitely out.”

“Definitely. And so’s salami, because I hate salami.”

\--------------------------------------

As they continued on their path through various storefronts, Yasha and Caduceus now equipped with paper shopping bags, Molly’s eyes fell on the window of a small bakery tucked off in a corner.

He wasn’t much for reading, he’d be the first to admit that. But this was one particular phrase he’d made a point to remember:

_Cinnamon Bear Claws, A Taste of Nicodranas!_

No, no. Underneath that. The words:

 _Rüdesheimer Kaffee.  
__$3.49/Cup_  

Molly felt a quiet smile creep across his face. He felt his hand moving for his pocket, reaching for his phone, ready to take a picture to send it to Caleb and then—

He hesitated.

And _then…_ what? What would be the point? He _knew_ Caleb would never read the damn thing. Gods, did he know, he’d probably drowned the poor man’s inbox with trite nonsense by this point. And what was even the use? What was he trying to accomplish? He _knew_ that Caleb’s number was just a black hole. The fact that Molly insisted on talking to it was honestly just weird, a creepy way for him to express these confusing emotions that he’d never ever dare to sh—

He turned around and came face-to-face with an extremely concerned Yasha and Caduceus. He also slowly realized that during his sudden bout of frustration, he’d been swearing.  

In Infernal.

They managed to stamp the fire out after a few beats. This was helped by the fact that cobblestones didn’t really burn well, and there was plenty of snow to throw into the flames.

“Sorry, sorry,” Molly sighed, giving one last kick to the scorched street beside him. “I suppose I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Is that something that happens a lot?” Caduceus asked, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”

“Yes,” Yasha said carefully, leveling her steady gaze towards Molly. “ _Should_ I be concerned?"

A smooth and careless response hung easy at the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth, and prepared to speak, and held up a hand, and then—

—and then, for whatever reason, for whatever cause, for whatever moved him at that very second to do something that Mollymauk Tealeaf would rarely ever do, he paused.

This was Yasha. This was _Yasha_. Gods, above, you idiot, _this is Yasha!_

His smile still came, but it was a little weaker than he’d intended. He reached out and took her gently by the hand.

“I think I see something interesting by that bakery,” he said as confidently as he dared. “Would you, er, would you like to come with me to see it?”

This was Yasha. She knew him like the back of her sword.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, dear.” This was muttered so only she could hear. And then Molly turned towards his new roommate and said, “Caduceus, dear, er…I hate to just leave you alone like this, but would you mind…going on ahead of us? I promise we’ll catch up soon. There’s just some, uh, really fascinating bread I would like to see.”

Whatever danced behind Caduceus’s electric gaze at that moment, Molly would never be able to tell.

“Sure,” he said cheerfully. “Here, let me take Kiri too.”

Yasha immediately lifted Kiri up by the armpits and handed the little kenku over to Caduceus. He draped her up on his shoulders.

“Be good,” she said softly. “Molly and I will be back.”

“Yes, I’m very sweet!”

Caduceus nodded. “I’ll watch her,” he promised, and there was no trace of irony in what he said next:

“You two go and get a good look at that bread.”

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, guys, check out that _necklace_!” Nott breathed. “Look at it shine!”

Jester grinned as the gems caught her eye. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed. “ _That,_ is fancy stuff.”

“Something your mother might wear?” Caleb asked with a chuckle.

“Absolutely,” Jester sighed. “She would _love_ this.”

“Hey!” Nott said, tugging on her sleeve, “hey, maybe you should get her one! I’m sure a fancy-schmancy place like this would deliver to your home, and I’m sure she’d appreciate it. Even if it’s her money that you buy it with.”

“Usually it is the thought that makes the present worthwhile,” Caleb sighed, “not the monetary value assigned to it.”

Jester shook her head. “I’ve got my present for my momma already, you guys! Don’t worry, I was planning it for a _long_ time.”

“Really?” Nott asked. “What was—”

At that very moment, the door to Quannah Jewels slid open. A woman walked out, a half-elven woman with long black hair and cheekbones that could draw blood. Her chest was puffed out and her smile reeked of delight, and Caleb noticed that despite the freezing temperature, despite the rancid cold, she wore no scarf around her neck, no collar protecting her skin.

This was likely because of the gleaming silver chain that currently hung smugly across her sternum. It _shone_ in the daylight, practically _radiated_ with beauty. She walked with purpose, with pride, with a gait that carried her directly past the ragtag group by the window without even a second—or first—glance.

A man in glasses hurried out of the store behind her. They both quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Caleb and Jester glanced down at Nott.

Her fingers were visibly twitching.

They exchanged glances.

And then slowly, ever-so-slowly, almost as if not to draw any suspicion, Jester reached out and tapped Nott on the forehead.

“Blessing of the Trickster,” she said, in a voice dripping with glee.

“Gods, just…try not to get arrested,” Caleb sighed.

Jester pulled her hand back. Nott shimmered briefly with a faint green light.

“Go _get_ ‘em,” the cleric grinned. “Go teach that lady who’s _boss_.”

\--------------------------------------

“—lot of garlic, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t brush her teeth. We might be best going with—oh, Caduceus! Hey, Mister Clay!”

Beau waved her hands around and jumped up in the crowd, managing after a few seconds to catch the eye of a certain enormous firbolg. He grinned when he saw her, quickly made his way over.

“What’re you doing all on your own?” Fjord asked, then noticed Kiri poking out from behind a curtain of pink hair. “Oh, uh, hey, kiddo. Are you having fun?”

“Are you having fun?” she echoed.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Molly and Yasha went off to look at a bakery,” Caduceus said, shrugging slightly and sending Kiri into chirping giggles as he moved. “I figured they could use some privacy.”

“Privacy?” Beau frowned. “Why would they need privacy for _that_?”

“Because it was really just an excuse to have a heart-to-heart about something important. It looked private, so I didn’t want to intrude.”

“I promise we’ll catch up soon,” Kiri added earnestly, in Molly’s voice.

Fjord and Beau exchanged glances. They both shrugged.

“Welcome to Team B-F,” Fjord said. “The ‘B’ stands for Beau, the ‘F’ stands for me.”

Caduceus cocked his head to the side. “Shouldn’t it be Team B-M, then?”

Fjord opened his mouth. He closed it. He looked over at Beau, who shrugged again.

“We’re open to criticism,” he sighed eventually. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere warm, that might help the ol’ brain cells  restart.”

\--------------------------------------

As soon as Nott scurried out of earshot, at almost lightning speeds, Caleb took a deep breath. He hadn’t wanted to ask her to leave, but now that she was gone, this was his only chance. He quickly spun around to face Jester, then faltered when he realized she had already crossed the street, had already made her way over to another window and was crouched down, face against the glass, staring inside.

Mystified, he walked over to join her. He peered over her shoulder and his gaze softened. Jester was watching a toy wooden train driving circles around a miniature track, her face glowing with delight. She laughed when the train blew its whistle and clapped when steam curled up from the chimney. Her eyes glittered like the gold lines stripes painted across the side of the engine.

Jester was a person frequently accused of being childlike. But sometimes, maybe more often than not, Caleb admired the way she could find wonder in anything.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment. Then again, this was something he _needed_ to do.

Tentatively, he reached out. He brushed a hand against her shoulder.

“Jester?” he murmured.

She turned around, then caught his expression and instantly stood up. Behind her, the train did one final loop and came to a stop.

“Caleb?” she asked gently. “Is everything alright?”

He forced himself to relax, and nodded. “ _Ja, ja,_ sorry if I worried you. Everything is fine, Jester.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You look nervous. Are you okay?”

“I am alright. But, er, I _was_ wondering if I could…discuss something with you.”

Her face immediately brightened up. “Of course!” she beamed. “You can always talk to me about anything.”

He cracked a faint smile. “That is what I was hoping,” he said, and the relief was audible. “I, er…I recently may have realized something, and I think I need some advice.”

“Oh, well, _advice_ ,” she leaned in smugly, “if it’s _advice_ you want, you’ve come to the right person!” She gestured broadly to the shops around them. “Let’s keep going, though, if that’s okay?”

He nodded, and they set off down the streets. As they walked, Caleb quickly remembered something and held up a finger. “I need you to promise that you won’t tease me,” he said sternly. “I need to know that you won’t try and have fun.”

“I’m _always_ having fun,” Jester giggled, “but sure. I think I know what you mean. I promise. Swear on the Traveler.”

He took a deep breath, nodded and lowered his voice. “In that case, I need help. Regarding relationships. Regarding what to do about them, and how they…how they grow.”

“Okay, okay…” she paused in front of a bakery, then shook her head and kept walking. “Tell me more.”

“I need to know…” he tried to find the right words, “I need to know, _how_ to know, if a relationship can be good. And not just a romantic one, platonic as well.”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “Well…it depends on the person, doesn’t it? Is the person someone you like? Are _they_ good?”

Caleb stared at the ground. “I need to know how to know that also.”

Jester tapped her chin. “Well…you’ve _got_ friends, don’t you? How do you feel around us?”

Caleb considered this for a moment. “Well,” he said eventually, “warm, I suppose? And…soft.”

“Soft and warm,” Jester murmured, bobbing her head up and down. “Soft and warm, that sounds pretty good, don’t you think?”

Caleb chuckled softly. “ _Ja_ , I mean, I came out today with you all, did I not?”

Jester slung an arm around his shoulder. “You _like_ us,” she sang happily, “you _do_.”

“Was that ever in any doubt?”

She released him cheerfully and said, “Whoever this person is, do you feel the same way about _them,_ that you feel about us? Because if so, it’s _probably_ a good sign.”

Caleb bit his lip. “Well,” he muttered, “well, that _is_ the problem. Because I do—”

“Oh, good.”

“—but I also _don’t_.”

“Oh, no.”

“ _Ja_.”

She tiled her head upwards, as if thinking intently for a moment. Her horn charms jingled in the sunlight. Then she met his gaze again.

“How _do_ they make you feel?” she asked. “Is it bad?”

He shrugged. “It is different. I have not felt this way before, in a long time.”

Jester, for all her bluster and cheer, was a surprisingly shrewd young woman.

“You told me once that you were in love before,” she said. “Is it like _that_?”

\--------------------------------------

Yasha and Molly stood alone in front of the bakery. After a moment, he gestured towards a nearby wooden bench, covered in a thin layer of snow. He reached down with a gloved hand and brushed the dusting away until it was more-or-less available for sitting.

Then he collapsed onto it and dropped his head into his hands.

“Gods _above_ ,” he moaned. “Yasha, what am I _doing_?”

\--------------------------------------

“It was only the once,” Caleb sighed. “And it was a _very_ long time ago.”

“Either way,” she shrugged, and crouched down to examine the display of a nearby hat store, “tell your Auntie Jester all about it.”

He snorted, ran a weary hand through his hair. “Well, er, well,” he began, “it happened when we were young. Very young. In…school. We were in the same, the same program, so we spent a lot of time together. And we were rather similar, had the same goals and all that, and, you know, at that age…we just wanted to have fun. It _was_ fun. And then it was more than that.”

“But why that person?” Jester asked, leaning in closer towards the glass. “Why not someone else?”

“Well…we had a connection,” Caleb sighed. “We—we _thought_ —we understood each other. And even more importantly, we _pushed_ one another. To work harder, learn faster, to be better than we ever were."

“…was that good for you?”

Caleb chuckled darkly. “At the time? It was the greatest thing in the world. She…she made me feel _alive_ , Jester. A lot of things did, back then, but her especially. It _was_ love, I believe. I…I have to believe that. I _want_ to believe that. Who I used to be…I want to remember him as someone who was capable of…of so much love.”

Jester turned, just slightly, so that her gaze was split by a mirror in the window.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I do not know.”

She tapped her chin, and her reflection did so too.

“Maybe…I don’t know,” she sighed. “Is it because you think that _you_ aren’t?”

\--------------------------------------

“I feel as if I need a little more explanation,” Yasha said, sitting down on the bench next to him. “You are doing many things, what is the specific one that is bothering you?”

Molly burrowed further into his hands. “That’s the _problem,_ ” he grumbled. “It’s a _bunch_ of shit, and all of it is…is not very ‘me,’ I suppose.”

“Tell me about it,” Yasha pressed. “What have you been doing?”

He kicked at a stray pebble, sent it scattering into the crowd.

“Obsessing, I think,” he muttered. “Over someone that probably doesn’t feel the same way about me, as I do about them.”

“What feeling is that?” Yasha asked. “Which person?”

“I told you before, dear, a long, _long_ time ago.”

He closed his eyes 

“It’s fucking _Caleb_ ,” he sighed. “And the feeling, is _fucking_ love.”

\--------------------------------------

“How _could_ I be?” Caleb asked. “I have done terrible things since then. I have lived through so many terrible choices. And even if I _did…_ love, the love that I have to give is nothing compared to what others could offer.”

“Now, _I_ don’t think that’s true,” Jester said, shaking her head. “ _I_ think you’re pretty great.”

“Yes, well,” Caleb snorted, “I am still confused about that one too.”

\--------------------------------------

“I seem to recall you being drunk when you said that,” Yasha frowned. “You were very loopy.”

“Well, _yes_ ,” Molly sighed, “I _was_ , but not from drinking. From _emotion_. From…from… _excitement_.”

“You do not appear very excited right now.”

“I’m not,” he nodded glumly. “Because back then, it was a dumb flight of fancy about an attractive stranger I thought I’d have fun with. Now…gods, now it’s with my _friend_.”

“Is that bad?”

Molly leaned back, put the backs of his horns against the side of the bakery.

“It’s _very_ bad, dear. I, fuck, I spent half the time pretending we were going on dates and dreaming about how exciting it would be if we were a couple! I was only getting to know him because I thought, maybe that’s how we would get together! I wanted to get swept off my feet by a man who thought I was the world, because _I_ wanted to be loved, and I wanted _him_ to love _me_!”

An unhearing crowd milled past before them. Somewhere, far-off, holiday music was playing.

“What changed?” Yasha asked quietly.

Molly slumped down onto the bench.

“Caleb almost died,” he muttered. “During that whole ordeal at the prison. And when I saw him lying on that floor in that damn hallway, with that stupid mechanical monster bearing down on us, the first thought that went through my head was: _he’s gone, and I didn’t even tell him how I felt._ ”

Molly closed his eyes. He chuckled darkly.

“How selfish is _that_?”

\--------------------------------------

“I like you because you’re nice,” Jester shrugged. “And I know you’re going to argue, so just shut up for a second. Whether you believe it or not, you’re _nice._ To me, and to Nott, and to Beau and Fjord and Yasha and Molly and even Caduceus! And I don’t know _why_ you are, because you obviously don’t _have_ to be. And maybe you don’t think it’s for a good reason, and maybe you don’t think it’s true at all, but that’s just what _I_ think. And I’m sure the others would tell you the same.”

Caleb stuck his hands into his pockets, kicked his heels against the pavement.

“Maybe,” he said eventually. “Maybe. But that does not help me decide what to do about my feelings.”

Jester leaned against the glass of the window display. “You think you’re a bad person, right?”

“ _Ja_ , I think we have covered—”

“Then why are you even _considering_ getting close to this person?”

In the silence that followed, music drifted softly through the air. Something about the tune seemed inexplicably familiar.

“I…I could not have asked for better friends,” Caleb murmured. “You all, I do not even _deserve_ you as friends. I…enjoy your company, truly, I do. And yet…there is something different when it is just me and—and this person. When we are together…I feel _alive_. It is like last time, with…with _her_ , but also…different. He does not push me to be better, but I still try. We do not share remotely the same life path, and yet I feel he has become an intricate part of mine. And I… _götterverdammt,_ I just like who I am when I am with him, go on, call me selfish—"

Jester laughed, Caleb was so confused that he stopped talking. He watched her shake her head.

“Silly, silly!” she declared. “Why would I _ever_ call you selfish, for trying to be happy?”

\--------------------------------------

“I think it is possible you are being unfair to yourself,” Yasha murmured. “It may be the case that you were…weird in how you showed your feelings—” and here Mollymauk snorted, but she plowed on through, “—and maybe your intentions were not entirely pure. But it sounds like you realized your mistake.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but what good is that? I’ve already made it."

She frowned. “Are you trying to tell me that _everything_ you did was wrong?”

\--------------------------------------

“I know it will all turn sour, somehow,” Caleb sighed. “I know that I am a terrible person. And I know that this happiness, this relationship, whatever it is or will become, I will do something that ruins it all.”

“But _how_ do you know?” Jester pressed. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I did it once already,” Caleb muttered. “In the past, as I said—”

\--------------------------------------

“Was there anything that I even did _right_?”

Yasha tapped her chin and shrugged. “It seems to me, that somewhere along the way, you and Caleb still ended up friends.”

Molly opened his mouth.

He closed it.

He hesitated.

\--------------------------------------

“Caleb?”

“—again, er…what?”

Jester stood up. She crossed the distance between them, and prodded him firmly in the chest.

“Are you the same person that you used to be, back then?”

“I do not—”

“ _Are_ you the same boy who fell in love with that girl?” she demanded. “Are you still the same kid who made that choice and are you still the same person who lost everything that he ever held close?”

Caleb chuckled darkly. “Well, no, I certainly cannot say—”

She reached up and tweaked him gently on the nose.

“Then why are you so _damn_ worried?”

\--------------------------------------

“I suppose…that’s a good point,” Molly muttered.

“Something must have worked,” Yasha nodded. “And he cares for you as well, yes? Maybe not in the way you wanted, but he still cares, yes?”

“Well…yes,” Molly admitted. “He…does.”

“Why did _you_ love him, anyways?” she asked. “I like Caleb too, but…Molly, he is a bit of a mess.”

Molly snorted. “That’s very true, dear. I suppose at first,” he sighed, “I liked the idea of this ordinary and very obvious mess who wanted to get to know me, especially compared to a rich bastard in a mask who’d hide everything until it all came tumbling out. Of course, it helped that he’s attractive.”

“I will take your word on that.”

“In a scruffy kind of way!” Molly laughed, and nudged her in the arm. “Our dear friend Mister Widogast cleans up rather well. And then, I don’t know, we ended up just talking to each other. I found his life interesting, I guess he must’ve found mine not-boring, and our conversations were fun and I like his sense of humor, and he also was just so…kind. He, ah…he introduced me to these things, like recorded books—”

“Audiobooks?”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Yes, er…those, yes.”

She shrugged. “I like literature. Books are too heavy. Keep going.”

His other eyebrow went up. “I’m going to need to know the rest of _that_ story later, but…yes. Ah. I also might have told him about…about my past. Or, er…lack thereof.”

“Oh. How did…that go?”

Molly cracked a smile. “Would you believe it? He told me…he told me…”

_“I believe in second starts. You are who you say you are, you are who I have seen you be. And that is good enough for me.”_

“Of course, we were drunk at the time,” Molly admitted, “but he confirmed later that the sentiment was real.”

“Caleb is an honest drunk.”

“It’s quite fun.”

Yasha waved a hand. “Tell me,” she said, “why did you keep spending time together, if it seemed like nothing was going to happen?”

“I wasn’t sure until recently that nothing _would_ happen,” Molly sighed. “And I just suppose…I suppose…that if nothing _did_ happen, after enough time, I’d lose interest. I’d fall out of love. And then I’d have a new friend, and move on, and bother him on the weekends for no real reasons in particular, like I do with the rest of you. And I must say, I _did—_ or maybe I still _do_ —like being his friend. But…gods, I also _never_ fell out of love. Which was not the plan. I just…it focused on a real person. Not a dream. Not a fantasy. Just an ordinary person, a very obvious mess.”

“So you are in love with the same man, but also a different man.”

“Sort of?” Molly frowned. “I guess?”

“That is very confusing.”

He laughed into the clear winter air.

“You’re telling _me_?”

They sat there on the bench for a few more seconds, watching the sun descending into dusk.

“Now what?” she murmured. “Now that you have told me all this. Now what will you do?”

Molly put his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands.

“Dunno,” he said. “I was sort of hoping that you’d help me.”

Yasha considered this for a moment. “I think…yes, I think you need to talk to him,” she said slowly. “Face to face. Not through texting, though I imagine that does not work on Caleb—”

“You imagine correctly, my dear.”

“Right. So you should tell him how you feel. But…er…tell him when you are ready. When you think the time is right.”

“He’s going to reject me,” Molly sighed. “I’m almost sure of it.”

Yasha shrugged. “You said yourself that you like being his friend. Maybe that is it. Maybe it should not matter so much if he dates you or not. Maybe you should just tell him, so you can focus on being friends. Without needing to hide anything.”

Molly cracked a weak smile. “That was the major theme of my rant, eh?”

Yasha raised her empty palms. “You said a lot of words. Most of them suggest that.”

He chuckled and clinked a horn against her shoulder. “You’re wise, you know that?”

“I do not think many people would agree with you there.”

“Those people are wrong. None of ‘em know you like I do.”

Yasha chuckled softly and closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said.

Molly grinned. He shook his head.

“No, dear. Thank _you_.”

\--------------------------------------

“—and then Beau picks up the broken bottle, blood pouring down her face, and starts walkin’ over to the guy that’s pulled a knife on me—”

Fjord cut off abruptly, mid-story, as a small shape practically materialized out of the shadows of the bar and climbed up onto their bench.

Everyone sitting in the booth stared, over two enormous plates of poutine, as Nott the Brave pulled her hood down and collapsed against the table next to Caduceus.

“I need a beer,” she declared. “And then a whisky. And then vodka.”

“ _Why_?” Fjord asked as Beau immediately got a waiter’s attention. “What did you _do_?”

“Something really, really, _really_ dumb,” Nott muttered. “On the bright side, I got the necklace. On the downside, I probably shouldn’t leave this bar for, um…maybe an hour? I don’t know how long it’ll take the Crownsguard to give up.”

Fjord stared at her. He looked at the others.

“Go fuck yourself,” Kiri chirped happily.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb trailed after Jester as they headed towards the Song and Supper, her words freewheeling through his mind. They all clamored for attention, pushed and shoved and screamed to be heard. And then one voice, louder than the rest, clear as a lantern glowing in the night and almost twice as demanding, cut through the heavy static.

Caleb groaned. He glanced around, found the culprit lurking at the mouth of nearby alley.

“Stop that, please,” he murmured. “I just heard it, I _know_ what she said—”

A pause.

“Yes, yes, you told me first. I hope you are pleased with yourself.”

Another wait.

“ _Götterverdammt,_ you are such a…a…a _feline_.”

\--------------------------------------

Just before they got off the bench to head back towards the group, Molly pulled his phone out. He turned toward the bakery, focused on the window, and snapped a picture he’d save for later.

\--------------------------------------

“Hey, Jester?” Caleb murmured.

She didn’t turn around, but she hummed to prompt him to speak.

He gently tapped her on the shoulder. “I just realized,” he said. “I never actually thanked you.”

She snorted. “For what?”

“For listening,” he murmured. “For helping. Er…thanks.”

He couldn’t see it, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Of course, silly,” she said. “That’s what friends are for.”

\--------------------------------------

And then the sun set.

And then it was time for the movie.

But before that, one last scene:

\--------------------------------------

They were on line outside the theater, tickets having been distributed by Jester (with the reassurance that she had six extra copies of everyone’s, should they somehow lose them while standing around, not doing anything). Kiri was back on Yasha’s shoulders and a rather drunk Nott had climbed onto Caduceus’s, and somehow Fjord had ended up holding a majority of everyone’s shopping bags.

“It’s just what the boyfriend does,” Beau explained as the line inched forward. Her breath, like Nott’s, smelled slightly like nail varnish. “You’ve got to impress the rest of the family.”

“I thought I was _in_ this damn family,” Fjord sighed. “I thought we established this.”

Beau chose to ignore him, instead turned around to face Yasha. “Hey, uh…hey,” she said, only sort-of quietly, “we didn’t get to spend much time together today. Which sucks. But, uh, I was just wondering…will you hold me during the show?”

Yasha blinked very slowly. Her face was empty, as if all emotion had instantly shut down.

“Er…what?”

“Will you hold me?” Beau repeated. “I just…you know, if we sit next to each other we can just put the armrest down, and I don’t know about you, but I’m still cold from outside, so I figured that maybe—”

“Five dollars.”

There was a pause.

“What?”

If Beau hadn’t been so drunk, she would have noticed the absolute panic now groaning its way through Yasha’s eyes.

“Five…yes…five dollars,” Yasha repeated. “That is the cost. Of. Your…request?”

Beau shoved a free hand into her pocket and rummaged around. There was nothing in there but loose chocolate.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Do you take credit? Transfers?”

“I do not have a bank account.”

“Shit, you’re right. Well, nevermind, the—”

“You can sit next to me for free.”

Beau stopped. She stared.

“I can…what?”

“Sit next to me,” Yasha said again, and then seemed to panic even further at her own words. “Er…that is…if you would like to?”

“Uh…uh…sure?” Beau breathed, almost in disbelief. “Yeah, sure, I’d, uh, I’d love to.”

Yasha nodded quickly and swiftly turned around. “That is good,” she said, and then barely above a whisper added, “I, er, I would like that also.”

And near the back of the group, as Jester started applauding and Beau instantly turned around and shoved her hands back into her chocolatey pockets, Molly slowly fell behind and slid in next to Caleb.

“Are you ready to see the movie?” he asked softly. “Apparently it’s the most important one of the year. And not only because Yasha and Beau are finally figuring their lives out.”

“I am proud of them there,” Caleb chuckled, “but the movie opinion is Jester’s. It may not be accurate.”

Molly shrugged. “I tend to trust what she says.”

Caleb made a face at that, one the tiefling couldn’t possibly have begun to understand.

“I would just like to say,” he added before Caleb could reply, “that for the record…I am glad that we are friends.”

Caleb closed his mouth. “Oh,” he said, slightly surprised by this sudden shift in topic. “Oh, er…me as well. _I_ as well. Me too.” He hit himself mentally on the forehead. “Sorry, it has been a long day.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I feel that one. A lot happened.”

“ _Ja_ , Nott spent an hour running from the police, that was fun.”

“Very on-brand for us, eh Mister Caleb?”

He laughed. “We have strange friends, Mister Mollymauk.”

A grin nodded back. “I wouldn’t ask for any others.”

And as the sun set behind them, as the street lamps bloomed, as the tinsel caught the glow and the ice held the light, anyone who might’ve been watching, anyone who might’ve been waiting, anyone who might’ve been lucky enough to be paying attention, in _just_ that moment, in _just_ that second, anyone might have seen two more flames, flickering on in the darkness.

And maybe they were tiny, and maybe they were slow, and maybe they were just a bit unsure, but right now, in that moment, in that second, for that breath, they burned just a little bit brighter. They _hummed_ , with a promise that had yet to be made.

They would have looked like two fireflies, dancing together in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has now fulfilled my contractual obligation to do a fun "cut a bunch of short scenes together to make things Dramatic (TM)"
> 
> Thank you thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did please please consider leaving Comments/Kudos! Y'all's amazing comments are really keeping me going, and I really really appreciate you guys with all my lil writer heart <3
> 
> I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock)All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, if you need something to hold yourself over between updates! I've only got 4 more left, and I super duper promise I'll get 'em done soon!!
> 
> <333333333


	19. Faded Yellow Pages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haaaapppppyyy weekend! This chapter was meant to be shorter but for some reason i cant write under 5k anymore. Anyways, here we go, featuring: Nott's Drunk Movie Review, Faint Beauyasha, HEAVY Fjorjester, Nott does some Recon, Molly visits the 'rents, Caleb makes a discovery

“I _can’t_ believe she fell for him in the end,” Nott sighed as she hung piggy-back style off Caleb’s shoulders through the front door. “He was the _worst_! All he did was flirt with her, and put her on a pedestal, and I’m sure the only reason she even agreed to even date him in the first place, was just to shut him up!”

Caleb helped Nott collapse against their couch and set their shopping bags down on the rug. Then he went into the kitchen to fetch some cold water.

“She could have done _so_ much better!” the little goblin continued, unrelenting in her intoxicated film criticism. “I mean, she was a badass, she was _so_ smart, and _so_ pretty! And what was he?”

“Er…a musician?”

“A _sleaze-ball_.”

Caleb returned and handed her a glass. He sat down on the coffee table and watched her drain it.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I thought he had some good character progression in the second half. Really enough to justify their eventual relationship.”

“Bullshit,” Nott muttered. “He sucked.”

Caleb chuckled. “I did not realize you would have such strong opinions about this movie. Perhaps you and Jester should start some sort of book club. Except, well, without the books.”

“Too bad I’m a goblin,” Nott shrugged. “Otherwise, I dunno, _maybe_.”

“You have disguise spells, _ja_?”

As she considered this proposal and tried to drink from an empty cup, Caleb sprawled down onto the coffee table and lay completely on his back. For a moment, he considered their dormant ceiling fan. Then he closed his eyes and snapped his fingers and a 12-pound Bengal cat materialized out of thin air and landed on his chest.

He ran a hand through soft orange fur. Frumpkin began to purr.

“ _You_ look like the drunk one,” Nott observed, and Caleb could practically hear the eyebrow-raise in her tone. “What happened? Are you alright?”

He sighed. “ _Ja_ , I am okay. Just tired, I think. And…still mulling things over.”

“Aw, does that mean today was a bust? Did you not figure out what you were trying to figure out?”

“Well…sort of,” he hummed. “Actually, I might have learned a few things. But that knowledge came with more questions.”

“Learning sucks,” Nott said sympathetically.

Caleb felt his muscles slowly start to unwind. He felt a yawn creep in at the edges of his mind.

“That is alright, _spatz_ ,” he said quietly. “To be perfectly honest, at this moment, I am alright being a little confused.”

Nott’s voice hung low over a warm fog of sleep. “Why?”

He shrugged, as best as he could while lying down on a table with a cat on his chest.

“I am not sure,” he murmured. “For the first time in a while, something is telling me that…that maybe it is okay to not have all the answers.”

\--------------------------------------

Jester entered the room humming under her breath, hair frizzy from the blow-dryer and bathrobe loose against her shoulders. She had a mischievous grin painted across her face, which was not exactly unusual, but it did fade almost immediately when her eyes turned to Fjord.

He was lying down on their bed, hands folded under his neck, staring up at the ceiling with a soft, tranquil smile. A wide expanse of faintly-glowing stars twinkled back at him in the low darkness.

Jester set her hairbrush down. She walked over towards their bed and hopped up onto the mattress.

“See anything interesting?”

Fjord saw her expression and chuckled. “Maybe. Why’re you askin’?”

She nestled up against his side and shrugged. “I just wanted to know if I had competition. If maybe you were more interested in looking at the stars, than looking at _me_.”

A faint grin spread across his face. He shifted on the quilt and pressed his forehead to hers.

“All the stars in the sky couldn’t tear my gaze from you, Jes.”

She broke into giggles and batted his cheek away playfully. “No, no, that was too charming! Girls can’t trust guys that are _too_ charming.”

“Aw, but what about that gnome from the movie?” Fjord pouted. “All his lines put mine to shame.”

“Yeah, but he was kind of a _dick_ ,” Jester pointed out. “Until he almost died, that is. Then he got better.”

Fjord snorted. “Was _Fireflies in the Snow_ everything you expected?”

“Oh my gosh, it was _better_!” she gushed. “But I wish they had given more screentime to the rest. There were some really good characters, in there. And that puppy was _really_ cute.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed the dog,” Fjord laughed. “I’m sure Darrington would be happy to know that his panderin’ to the animal-loving audience worked.”

“It didn’t just work,” Jester grinned, “it _worked_. Fjord, _we_ should get a—”

“Oh, I _knew_ you were going to say that—”

“Awwwww, _Fjord._ Do you not—”

“We can get _one_ , Jester. _One_. And you _gotta_ take care of it too, I’m not home most nights, so I won’t be able to feed—”

She didn’t even let him finish the sentence, just threw her face into his side and whacked his arm with a horn.

“Really?!” she cried, muffled against his t-shirt. “Really? Oh, my gods, _really_?”

“ _One_ ,” Fjord tried to say sternly, but his heart was beating too fast. “You hear, Jes? Just the _one_. And we gotta do _research_ first, I don’t wanna, gods, I want to make sure we do it right.

Jester pulled back up for air, then half-straddled his chest to meet his eyes. “You aren’t just saying this to be nice, right?” she demanded. “You _really_ mean it? And you _really_ want one too? You’re not just agreeing because you know I want a puppy?”

His eyes glittered. “I mean it. Really. If you _really_ think we’re ready for, for a dog, then I think I’m down. And, y’know, I’ve kind of always wanted one. It…it would be nice. To have a pet. Now that we live together.”

Her smile shone bright in the darkness. “I’m really happy right now,” she whispered.

He grinned. “Me too, Jes. I’m pretty dang happy too.”

She leaned down and Fjord closed his eyes, expecting a kiss, and then frowned when none came. Then he felt her weight shift off his chest.

He immediately sat up. He noted her expression. It was only slightly, marginally, _barely_ changed, but Fjord knew her better than that.

“Jes?” he murmured. “Jester, is everything alright?”

Their radiator crooned in the heavy silence that followed.

Then Jester bit her lip. “Fjord?” she asked.

“Yes?”

She shuffled against their mattress.

“You love me, right?”

His answer, as always, was instant.

“Of course.”

He watched her nod, saw her horned silhouette scrape against the painted stars.

“So…you’ve never… _lied_ to me, right?”

His eyes went wide. “Wait… _what_?” he asked. “Jester, what…what do you mean?”

Her expression was wretched, and somehow that only made things worse. “I’m sorry!” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for asking—”

“No, no, aw, shit, it’s okay, I was just—”

“—I just wanted to know! I _needed_ to know! Because…because…”

“…because?”

Jester took a deep breath. “Because…the Traveler mentioned something to me. He said…he said something about you, a while ago. That…that…that you weren’t telling me the truth.”

Fjord went quiet.

And then he too inhaled slowly. He breathed out, and felt his heart start to drown.

“I never lied to you—”

“Oh, _thank_ —”

“—but I also haven’t told you the whole truth.”

He wanted to look away from the expression across Jester’s face, but he couldn’t, out of fairness to her. He thought about holding out a calming hand.

He thought better of it.

“There are a few things I haven’t told you,” he murmured in the silence. “I…was afraid to. But, but, _gods,_ that was an _excuse._ Not a reason. And…it’s my fault that I never said anything earlier.”

“What do you mean?” she whispered. “What…what about?”

Slowly, so slowly, he reached over onto the nightstand. Crumpled up by the lamp were a few rumpled pieces of paper.

“You know that I can do magic, right?” he said.

Jester nodded frantically. “Yes?”

He handed her some napkins.

“I never told you why. Partially…partially because I don’t understand it, myself. But if there was one person I should’ve said something to, it’s…it _was_ you. And…I’m sorry. And I hope you can forgive me.”

Very carefully, Jester unfolded the papers.

And then, she began to read.

\--------------------------------------

“Here, here, sit on these.”

“What? Oh, thanks.”

With Yasha’s help, Beau managed to shift off the cold white tile and onto the thick couch cushions placed by her knees. Her arm hung limp against the rim of the bathtub, and a few beads of sweat stuck heavy to her temples. Currently she was regretting just about every single moment of her life, and Yasha couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

“Sorry I was not there to tell you to drink water,” she sighed. “Then your hangover would not be this bad.”

“’S not your fault,” Beau muttered. “Not my mom.”

“I know,” Yasha shrugged. “But I still care.”

Anyone else might have nodded warmly, but Beau’s eyes just narrowed. “Why?” she demanded immediately. “What’s in it for you?”

Yasha blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Why should you care?” Beau slurred again. “Who’s it to you?”

Yasha tried desperately to find the right answer. She settled on: “I am confused.”

Beau shoved her cheek against the cool side of the bathtub. “Me too.” Frustration was heavy in her tone. “You don’t gotta care. And I don’t care if you care. You shouldn’t care. You should go away and leave me alone.”

Yasha raised an eyebrow. “Is that…is that what you want?”

“’S what everyone wants,” Beau mumbled. “Everyone. Bastard Dad. An’ Mom. An’ Jessie. All of’em go away.”

“Jester was with us all today, though,” Yasha frowned. “The whole day.”

“Not anymore!” Beau tried to yell, but it was more of a whine than anything else. “She left! They all left! The only one still here is you, but all you _do_ is leave. You’re good at it. Practic’ly professional.”

Yasha sighed. “Look, if you want to be alone, I can just—”

Quick as a heartbreak, Beau lunged for Yasha’s wrist. Her fingers closed desperately around a pale hand.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please. I don’t—I _don’t_ wanna be. Not anymore.”

Yasha met her gaze.

She crouched down.

She tucked a stray lock of hair back to its place behind Beau’s ear.

“Then I will stay,” she murmured softly. “As long as you will have me. I will stay."

\--------------------------------------

Molly paused in the hallway as he walked past Fjord's old room. He peered carefully through the open doorway, just in time to see Caduceus kneeling by the side of his bed, fetching something out of a suitcase, outlined in the lamplight. And after another moment of deliberation, Molly leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and rapped a knuckle lightly on the doorframe.

Caduceus glanced up. He smiled gently.

"Hey there, neighbor. What's up?"

Molly gave a faint grin of his own, bowed his head just slightly. "I, er...I just wanted to say, sorry for leaving you behind, earlier. Yasha and I—"

Caduceus held up a hand. "I understand," he said slowly. "I'm new. There's things I don't need to know, yet."

Molly quickly shook his head. "No, no," he sighed, "no, that's not it. It was something...else. For, ah,  _her_ ears only. I hate...gods, I hate that I feel like I'm excluding you, I just...I'm sorry."

Caduceus carefully stood. It was like watching a mountain rise through the fog.

"We've only known each other a few days," he said, gesturing for Molly to come in. "It's to be expected. Really, I'm just happy I was invited along at all."

Molly looked taken aback. "Of course!" he said, stepping forward. "I really  _do_ like you, dear, and so do the others. We want to be your friend. Even Nott, which is...impressive. She's kind of bristly."

"Actually, we've already talked," Caduceus shrugged. "She's one of the ones I feel closest to, right now."

Molly gave an impressed whistle. " _Really_?" he asked. "Now, you must tell me how you did that."

Caduceus chuckled softly. "It's getting late," he said gently. "Maybe—"

Molly instantly tamped down his disappointment, nodded and held up a hand. "I get it," he said quickly. "That...that makes sense, you have a job—"

Caduceus shook his head. His hair waved slowly as he did. "That's not what I meant," he said. "I meant, if we're going to keep talking, we should make some tea."

Molly blinked. And then a faint grin broke across his face.

"I'd like that," he said. "Especially if we're having  _your_ tea, dear."

Caduceus answered that with a smile. “I’ll get the kettle going,” he murmured. “You can pick the blend."

\--------------------------------------

Very slowly, Jester lowered the napkins. The ink was slightly smudged now, even more from where her fingers brushed through words. But they were still readable, and Fjord knew this from the expression on her face.

“It’s crazy, it’s a lot, I know,” he sighed. “And I understand if…if you think we should stop, stop…whatever part of _us_ that you want to. Gods, it was horrible of me to keep this secret and I never should’ve—”

“His name is going to be Nugget.”

Fjord stopped. He went still. Then:

“What?”

Jester handed back the napkins and lay down on the mattress, sighing deeply to herself as she did. “Nugget,” she repeated. “Our puppy.”

Fjord stared at the papers in his hands. He looked up at Jester.

“I’m sorry, I’m… _what_? Jes, aren’t you…aren’t you mad?”

“I’m not,” she sighed, and her eyes glittered faintly in the darkness. “Not mad.”

“But…but…but then…what _are_ you?” He ran a panicked hand through his hair. “I mean, I _basically_ just told you I’m being controlled by a sea monster that I don’t even know the name of, what—”

She held up a finger, and he fell silent again.

“I’m not mad,” she repeated slowly. “Or angry, or anything like that. But I…I _am_ kind of disappointed.”

He nodded immediately. “And you’ve got every right to be. I _should’ve_ told you, I just—”

“Why didn’t you trust me, Fjord?” she whispered. “What did I do?”

His heart ground to a stop in his ribcage. His eyes quickly went wide. “Fuck, no, fuck, that’s not it, it… _gods_ , this is so stupid, but it _isn’t_ you. I swear. It’s just…it’s just…”

He took a shaky breath.

“This isn’t an excuse, ‘cause I know there’s no excusin’ me hiding the truth from you. But I guess…I mean…I _was_ scared. I didn’t know what I was dealing with, and it happened so long ago now that I sort of… _stopped_ thinking about it. And over the years I had gotten, y’know, so used to life _without_ magic, that I was afraid of what would happen if I brought it up. I was afraid that I might change my life, _our_ life, and…and I was worried that this small happiness we’d found together might…break.”

When Jester didn’t speak, he gingerly lowered himself down onto the mattress. He joined her in staring up at the tiny glowing stars.

“At the Moondrop, and then in the prison, I started usin’ the powers again. And…gods, I forgot how _good_ it felt. And…I forgot, I guess, that I never told you about it. Because I didn’t want you to think differently of me, and I didn’t want you to be…I dunno, _afraid_?”

She scoffed. Fjord was so relieved to get even a slight reaction from her, that he plunged on.

“I’m sorry, Jes. That’s the long and short of it. I’m sorry for not tellin’ you everythin’, and I’m even _more_ sorry for lying.”

“It wasn’t lying,” she muttered.

“It was hiding the truth. That’s just as bad. The…The Traveler was right there, I guess.”

Jester slowly shifted onto her side. Fjord could fell her breath against his arm.

“I’m _am_ a little mad that you didn’t say anything,” she admitted. “And I’m mad, I think maybe at _both_ of us, that you were afraid to tell me. But I’m not mad that you told me now. And I’m not mad that you were scared. And…I guess it’s silly, but…but I would especially be not-mad if you promised not to hide things like that again?” She blinked a few times, and gave him a weak smile. “Or, at least…if you just let me know a little bit of what’s happening. You don’t need to protect me. And you don’t need to worry. I will _always_ love you, Fjord. I will promise that to you.”

He turned too and met her gaze.

“I swear I’ll never keep the truth from you again, Jes. And I swear that…that…whatever’s going on, I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

She reached up a hand and poked him on the nose. “I’m going to _help_ you, dummy. We’ll figure this out _together_.”

He chuckled faintly with relief, and then it grew and grew and grew until her giggles wove into his laughter like a song.

After breaking away, they both rolled onto their backs and watched the painted heavens twinkling up above.

For a moment, they were silent.

Then Fjord’s voice crept into the air.

“I forgot to mention this earlier. Jes?”

“Yes?”

“I promise I’ll always love you too.”

\--------------------------------------

Morning came as morning did, treacle-slow and with the sun’s honeyed rays tapping gently on windowpanes all across the city. On any other day, Mollymauk Tealeaf would have savored this languid peace as sweetly as he could. He would have pressed his face into the side of his pillow, would have pulled his blanket up to his chin, would have shut his eyes and breathed in slow and spent a few more hours soaking in the dreamy light.

But on this particular morning, there was something important he wanted to do.

He barely even spent any time getting ready, instead opting to throw on some old clothes, slip into a random jacket, eschew makeup entirely and grab just the one necklace.

He was mindful not to slam the front door on the way out, to make sure he didn't wake Caduceus. The man had looked exhausted when they'd finally gone to bed, and could probably use the sleep. Their teacups were still on the kitchen counter.

\--------------------------------------

“Where are _you_ going today?” Nott asked as she watched Caleb button his coat. She was sitting up on the kitchen table, eating a plate of cereal with her hands like a toddler—or a college student. “It’s Sunday,” she added. “And those are your work-jeans.”

“ _Ja_ , well, I am going to work,” Caleb sighed. “Adelaine called in sick, and Yorda needed an extra hand. It should only be for a couple hours, and then I will be back.”

“That’s okay,” Nott said, shrugging dismissively. “I’ll probably be out for a while, too. I need to figure out what kind of present to get Yasha for the Wichy-thing.”

“Wichteln.”

“Yeah, that. Anyways, I’m going to their house to get inside intel.”

Caleb pulled his scarf off the coat rack. “Stay out of trouble on the way, alright?” he said gently. “The Crownsguard may still be looking for you. Apparently that lady you stole from was a very important foreigner.”

“How could you _possibly_ know that?” Nott asked, raising an eyebrow. “She was just some random lady.”

“She was on the news this morning. She did not seem very happy.”

With a quick wave of Nott’s fingers and a quiet muttered command, Caleb watched her form glow blue for a moment, and shift into that of a red-haired gnome girl.

“ _Ja_ , okay,” Caleb sighed, but couldn’t hide the grin. “Point taken.”

“You’re a good teacher,” Nott giggled. “And hey, I’ll tell Yasha you said ‘hi’!”

\--------------------------------------

“Well, well, _well._ Mollymauk Tealeaf! How’ve you been, son? Sit down, sit down, tell me what I’ve missed!”

Molly flipped his chair around and straddled it like a teenager with nothing left to lose. His cheeks were still flushed from being outside, but he wore a wide grin, a warm expression, and the glittering excitement he usually reserved for the one, the only, Gustav Fletching.

They both currently sat in his kitchen, awash with morning light. Desmond was there too, making omelets by the stove.

“Not so bad, Gustav, not so bad,” Molly admitted. “It’s taking everything I’ve got to keep killing time like this, but as you know, that’s always been my specialty.”

“Well, it’s good to know you’ve been keeping busy,” Gustav laughed. “Did you find a new job? Are you alright?”

“I’m making do,” Molly shrugged. “Mostly just busking and eating away at rainy-day funds, but I’m sure it’s enough to keep me going until the Moondrop’s back up, yes?”

Gustav’s expression immediately shifted. Behind them, Desmond flipped an omelet up into the air.

“That, er…that may not be the case,” Gustav murmured. “I’m sorry, lad, but…you may want to start looking around. When I told you that we’d be out of business for a while, well…I wasn’t kidding.”

“But you must have a plan for recovery,” Molly said, grin refusing to fade. “You’re _Gustav Fletching_! You can do anything.”

“Hardly anything,” Desmond snorted, and Gustav shot him an exasperated glare.

“Things aren’t exactly going…well,” he sighed, turning back to Molly. “We’re trying to figure it out, but the government’s gotten into this one and they won’t let us rebuild until we’ve repaid the fine. And, er...if we _can't_ , well, I'm not exactly certain about...about the future of the bar, son. Or, er...how long we have to actually _get_ the money, so that we  _can_ be certain."

Molly’s memory flashed back to a conversation from a few weeks ago. _Thirty-five thousand dollars,_ the Warden had said. _Thirty-five thousand. And that was just for idol worship_ —

“How much?” He learned forward in his seat. “How bad are we looking?”

“I don’t want to worry you,” Gustav sighed. “It’s more worry than you need—”

“How _much_ , Gustav?” he pressed. “Give me the number.”

With a sigh, Gustav dropped his elbows on the table. “Well…all told…adding the cost to fix the damages…we’re looking at about 120,000 dollars.”

Molly’s chair thudded back onto the tiled floor. He realized that his jaw had dropped open, and retrieved it.

“But that’s…that can’t be… _too_ much, can it?”

“Insurance won’t cover it,” Desmond said darkly. “They don’t get involved when the Empire comes calling, so we can’t count on money from that.”

“And _because_ the government’s on our tail,” Gustav sighed. “We can’t get any loans, either. They say we don’t have the collateral, well, I _tried_ to show ‘em collateral—”

“A fist does _not_ count.”

Gustav sank back down into his chair. He waved a hand around dismissively. “That’s the long and short of it, anyways. But no need to worry. As you said, I’ve always been resourceful, eh, Molly?”

“I mean…Gustav…a _hundred and twenty_ —”

He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about that now,” he said. “Come on, come on, I still haven’t gotten the details about _your_ last couple months. Stay for breakfast, stay for lunch, indulge this silly old man?”

His heart warmed when he heard Molly snort with amusement.

“You’re not _that_ old,” he scoffed. “I’d barely call you middle-aged!”

“You’d be surprised,” Desmond chimed in. “Half-elves always look younger than they really are.”

“A blessing and a curse,” Gustav conceded with a half-smile. “Now, come on, son. What do you say?”

Molly glanced around the kitchen. He tamped down the panic he felt swelling in his chest, replaced it with the smell of sizzling eggs and frying bacon.

He blew a lock of hair from his face and leaned back in his chair with a shrug. “Okay,” he said softly, and let a grin creep across his face. “Sure. I’d love to.”

\--------------------------------------

“What the fuck do you want?”

“What the fuck do _you_ want?”

There was a moment of tense silence. Then Beau rolled her eyes.

“Nott, this is _my_ house,” she sighed. “Just tell me why you’re here?”

The little goblin standing on her doormat shrugged. “I just wanted to hang out with Yasha,” she said.

Beau’s glare immediately went suspicious. “What? Why? What did she say? What did she tell you?”

Nott frowned. “ _Tell me_?” she asked. “She didn’t tell me anything. What, I can’t just show up to hang out with a friend?”

“Since when have you two been friends?” Beau demanded. “Did I miss a hang-out, or something?”

Nott stuck her tongue out. “It’s none of your business,” she said. “Now come on, let me in, it’s fucking cold out here.”

\--------------------------------------

“No, not a terrier,” Jester said, pursing her lips over Fjord’s shoulder. “I was thinking something bigger.”

“Bigger?” he turned around and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you preferred things that were cute and small.”

Jester shrugged. “Yeah, but I know you like bigger dogs. Plus we have a really big apartment, plus I’ve got plenty of time to take it out for walks. And also, it doesn’t really matter to me what size it is.”

Fjord raised his other eyebrow. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Are you _absolutely_ sure?”

“A bigger dog means more dog for me to love,” she said decisively. “Now come on, come on, what else do they have?”

Fjord grinned and turned back to the screen. “Let’s see…let’s see…they have a Zemnian Shepherd, apparently he’s five years old and like belly-rubs. Or…wow, I have no idea what this one is, but check out its picture…”

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, shoot!” Yorda called, suddenly glancing up from her reading. “Before I forget, there’s a stack of flyers in the break room. Would you mind hanging them up, while I watch over the counter?”

“Oh, ah…of course.”

Caleb set his pencil down and got up from his stool, walked back past the curtain and into the staff-room/copy-center/coffee-den, and scanned around until his eyes landed on a stack of posters. He made his way over, and upon closer inspection he could see that there were about a dozen or so copies in this pile. They were all printed on faded yellow paper, and had the city’s seal in the top-left corner to indicate that the following all-caps and very aggressive message was state-approved. The flyers read:

DO YOU **LOVE** YOUR **EMPIRE**? DO YOU **LOVE** TO **FIGHT**?  
**PROVE** IT ATTHE **NEW DAWN FESTIVAL** IN:

 **THE VICTORY PIT!**   

 **BATTLE** WITH THE BEST FOR THE **HONOR** OF YOUR COUNTRY!  
(HOSTED IN CONJUCTION WITH THE  **RIGHTEOUS BRAND** )

SIGN-UPS END 2PM  
TEAMS OF **FIVE** TO **TEN**  
GRAND PRIZE:  **$150,000**

Caleb whistled. That kind of money was, well…something else. A few years ago, he might have committed—perhaps not _murder_ —but certainly a large number of less serious crimes for that sort of cash.

He scooped up the posters and grabbed a roll of tape on his way out.

\--------------------------------------

“What are you watching?” Nott asked Yasha as Beau followed her to the couch. “Is it a favorite show of yours? Or a documentary about an animal that I can buy for you?”

“What?” Yasha looked over and hesitated. “Oh. Er…hello, Nott. Why are you here?”

The little goblin waved a hand. “Hi,” she said, and failed to explain anything else. “What are you watching?”

Yasha blinked a few times. Then she gestured vaguely at the television. “The, ah, the weather channel. Would you…care to join me?” This last part was somewhat strained, emphasized by Yasha glancing up to Beau for help.

She shrugged.

Yasha turned back towards Nott. “Yes. Er…yes. Feel free to also watch, if you would like.”

Nott immediately beamed and climbed up onto the couch. “Thanks!” she said cheerfully. “Do you always watch the weather?”

Again, Yasha tried and failed to seek Beau’s assistance.

“Er…no. But at the moment, it is interesting.”

“How can it be _interesting_?” She frowned at the screen. “It’s just weather.”

“That is true,” Yasha nodded, “but weather is a wide subject. For instance, did you know that there will be a blizzard during the holidays?”

“I did not know that,” Nott said, raising an eyebrow. “How did _you_ know? Is it your magic powers?”

“No,” Yasha shook her head. “No, look, it is from the television. That is what they predict, anyway. And they have only been wrong three times, so far.”

“How many times have they made predictions?”

“Three. It is very fun.”

Beau stood behind them for a few more minutes, leaning against the couch back and staring, mystified, as both of them somehow _prolonged_ this inane conversation—even started to gesture passionately at the screen. But eventually, having endured as much as she could, she took a deep sigh, gave one last glance to the raging debate happening in the living room, and made her way into the kitchen to find something to eat.

\--------------------------------------

Yorda was still deep into her novel—which was hidden behind the cover of another novel and therefore probably filled with explicit material—when Caleb emerged from the copy room.

“Yorda?” he asked, oblivious to her crimes against purity, “Yorda, have you read these posters? What is the ‘Victory Pit’?”

“The Victory Pit?” Her blush faded slowly. “What, that thing they do before New Dawn?”

“I do not know,” Caleb shrugged, and handed her one of the posters. “I have never heard of it before.”

Yorda scanned the page quickly, then smiled as she passed it back. “It’s an old holiday tradition we have,” she explained. “It’s actually been a bit since we’ve held one, nearly five years, I think, so I suppose it makes sense you wouldn’t know.”

“Five years?” Caleb echoed. “Why?”

She watched him walk over to the main bulletin board and tack a flyer up.

“Well, it’s probably safe to assume that someone died,” she shrugged. “That’s usually when they have to take a break.”

Caleb opened his mouth. He closed it again.

“And this is…a _holiday_ tradition?” he managed eventually.

“Oh, yes. Absolutely. Great for the whole family. It promotes togetherness and an appreciation for what you have.”

Caleb had to consider this one for a moment. A light went off in his head.

“You mean, everyone can join hands and watch a poor sap suffer, and think ‘ _scheisse,_ I am thankful that is not me?’”

“That’s the ticket, dear.”

“It seems quite dangerous.”

“Oh, the entrants are always the sort of people used to fighting. The type that would’ve made great adventurers, in the old days.”

“Military, then? Or warriors?”

She nodded absent-mindedly. “A lot of guilds do sign up, that’s true. And, of course, no modern weapons are allowed, otherwise it wouldn’t be as fun.”

“Magic, that is fine, though? Swords, and things, they are fine?”

Yorda lowered her novel, gave him a careful stare. “Are _you_ thinking of entering, dear?”

Caleb almost cut himself on the tape dispenser in his haste to answer. “ _Nein_ , _gods_ , no. No, I was just curious.”

“Better just to watch,” Yorda agreed, and picked up her book(s) again. “It’s safer, and I wouldn’t lose my best employee that way.”

“Am I your best, then?”

She cracked a smile. “For now. But if you don’t hurry, and get those posters up, I’ll have to tell Adelaine she has your spot. Go on, now. Hop to it.”

Caleb chuckled, and as he ventured out around the shelves, posters in hand, he couldn’t help but glance down at their contents again. Then he noticed a very tiny, very faint line of text that he’d missed in his first quick reading.

_Clerics on standby. The King’s Hall is not liable for any damages suffered to person, property, or psyche._

His eyebrows shot up, and he scoffed. “ _Scheisse_ , I _am_ thankful,” he murmured softly to himself. “Poor saps. Very poor saps, indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you didn't mind the filler this chapter, since there was some stuff I wanted to get to and also just some random things I felt like including. And as always, thank you thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did please please consider leaving Comments/Kudos! Y'all's amazing comments are really keeping me going, and I really really appreciate you guys with all my lil writer heart <3
> 
> I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock)All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!!
> 
> <333333333


	20. The Agony of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 20 of this MONSTROUSLY LONG FIC, featuring: Dinnertime for All, Nobody Honors the Rules, Beau and Jes go Shopping, Caduceus has a brief interlude of his own, Molly visits Caleb, Beau and Jes find "The One," Caleb Sees a Choice, Nott and Molly make Plans

That evening, Molly returned home with a spring in one step and a lead weight in the other. He’d spent most of the day with Gustav and Desmond, chatting about old times and remembering the Moondrop in all its previous glory. He’d filled them in on his own life, his new roommate, his holiday plans. He touched on how pissed he was that they’d lied to him about Yasha’s living situation, before deigning to spill a few details concerning a certain wizard and relishing in their delighted teasing. But, of course, as time went on, as the coffee wound down, and then the tea ran out, and then the lemonade grew warm, at just about the point when Molly seriously started considering the old juice boxes they had kept around for Toya, he realized that this was probably sign it was time for him to leave.

And now he was tugging closed the front door of his own apartment. He slung his scarf up onto the rack, kicked his shoes off, then paused in his tracks as he noticed the aroma wafting out of the kitchen.

“Gods above, that smells _amazing_ ,” he breathed.

Caduceus turned around from the stove. His long cotton-candy hair was back up in a bun, and he wore a slightly-stained white apron that said, “Don’t Kiss the Mortician.”

“Thanks,” he beamed. “It’s tofu and broccoli, mostly. It’ll be done in a few, but you can try it now if you’d like.”

Molly’s face lit up. He shed the rest of his outerwear and ran over.

“Careful,” Caduceus warned as the tiefling hefted himself up onto a clear patch of counter and grabbed a stray spoon. “It’s hot.”

Molly shook his head and grinned. “I’ve got a high tolerance for heat.”

He scooped up a piece of broccoli and let the sauce melt across his tongue. He shut his eyes, and sighed.

“You should really enter one of those cooking shows, or something, dear. I’m sure you’d win.”

Caduceus chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s the sort of thing for me, but thanks.” Then he lifted the pot with both handles, and started walking toward the counter. “Would you mind getting two bowls out from the cabinet?” he asked. “I’ll just go set this down.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Two? What for?”

Caduceus threw a puzzled glance over his shoulder. “For…me and you? Unless…you’d rather a plate.”

Molly blinked. He stared at his roommate, and then back down to his spoon, and then a soft smile broke across his face.

“Two bowls,” he said, bobbing his head. “Sure. Coming right up!”

\--------------------------------------

“—oh, and of course, there’s snow, too,” Nott said, ticking off a final finger. “But I think thunder is her favorite.”

Caleb scratched his chin. Next to him was a boiling pot of water, the stove fan whirring overhead. “I do not know how this helps you though,” he said. “You cannot just _buy_ her a storm.”

“No,” Nott agreed, “but maybe if I could find, like, I dunno, a _druid_ or something, maybe they could cook one up for me?”

Caleb tapped his spatula against the counter. “I do not know what the odds of finding someone like that in this city is,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should try something else.”

“But _what_?” Nott tugged at her hair. “What am I supposed to give a seven-foot barbarian lady made of pure, unstoppable mystery? What’s something I could get her that she would want, but that she doesn’t already have?”

Caleb considered this for a long, long moment.

“…a shield?”

\--------------------------------------

“There must be some way I can repay you,” Molly said, through a mouthful of broccoli. “It would be _criminal_ to keep exploiting your labor like this.”

Caduceus smiled, and gently shook his head. “I _like_ cooking. And it’s much easier for two.”

“I just want you to know that I’m never expecting it,” Molly warned. “It’s never an obligation. So I _will_ be surprised every time it happens.”

“That’s alright,” came the chuckled response. “It’s more fun for me this way.”

They were both seated at the kitchen counter now, demolishing their dinner with gusto. Caduceus had brought along a battered radio from his home in the grove, and it was currently playing an old, slow jazz song with a slightly muffled and tinny quality. Through the window to their left, curtains still drawn open, the city skyline glimmered on through the night.

After a few minutes of peaceful near-silence, Caduceus’s rumble re-surfaced.

“Actually, there _is_ one thing you might be able to help me with.”

Molly nodded enthusiastically. “Hit me,” he said.

Caduceus leaned an elbow against the table. “It’s about the gift exchange,” he sighed. “I need a present for Fjord. I know I wasn’t supposed to share who I have, but—”

Molly instantly held up a hand and laughed. “Say no more, dear! I’d be delighted to help. What were you thinking, so far?”

Caduceus shrugged. “That’s the problem, Molly. I don’t know what Fjord likes. He isn’t a tea fan, and he doesn’t seem to be much of a gardener. When I was movin’ in, well, I didn’t want to say anything because he was bein’ so helpful, but…he couldn’t even tell the snake plant from the spider plant.”

Molly hesitated. “The, er, the one in the red bowl…is the snake one—”

Caduceus nodded quickly. Molly wasn’t sure if this meant he had been correct, or if he should just move on.

“ _Anyway_ ,” he continued, opting for the latter, “you’re right about that. Fjord likes…hmm…he likes stuff that has to do with boats? He used to work on a ship, and he’s kind of a nerd about that stuff. He was also really big into magic for a while, couldn’t get enough of the stuff, though he seems to have given up on that recently. He also likes sports, and, ah, and swimming, and…I think he secretly enjoys romance movies. Gods, yeah, now that I think about it, once he went and saw an entire trilogy marathon of this one romance series in the theater by _himself_. He said it was because there were werewolves, but Jester and I still aren’t sure.”

“Swimming…” Caduceus mused, rubbing his chin. “Magic.”

“ _Though_ ,” Molly added suddenly, with grin across his face, “if there’s anything that I _really_ know about Fjord, it’s that he might be an idiot, and he might be a little dense, but he _is_ a good person. And he cares about his friends. Whatever you end up giving him, he’ll wear it around like a badge of honor. You’ve seen his scarf, right?”

Caduceus thought for a moment. He brightened up. “The pink one, with the knobby bits at the end?”

“That’s it,” Molly grinned. “Jester made him that for their first anniversary. And, I love Jester to bits, but it’s not very well done. And it _certainly_ isn’t Fjord’s style.”

Caduceus’s mouth curled into a smile. “But he wears it almost every day.”

Molly reached over and gave Caduceus a pat on the hand. “As long as it’s heartfelt,” he nodded. “As long as it’s a gift from a friend.”

\--------------------------------------

“I don’t think she’d want to use a shield,” Nott muttered. “As, like, a matter of pride.”

Caleb considered the pasta pot in front of them. Then he whacked his forehead with the back of his palm.

“ _Scheiss,_ of course!”

“Of course what?”

Caleb waved his spatula around. “Of course _we_ do not know what the perfect gift for Yasha is. We do not know her so well, like that. But we know someone who _does_.”

\--------------------------------------

Beauregard created a new group chat  
_4 members: Beauregard, Caleb, Fjord, Jester_

Today | 10:09PM

 **Beauregard:** so Molly  
**Beauregard:** what the FUCK do I get him???  
**Beauregard:** I still have no clue  
**Jester:** ooooooooh Beauuuuu you’re not supposed to tell us who you have!!  
**Fjord:** well I already knew  
**Jester:** AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME????  
**Jester:** you will sleep on the couch  
**Fjord:** please I have a family  
**Beauregard:** HEY  
**Beauregard:** focus, guys  
**Beauregard:** what do I get that bastard????  
**Jester:** wait before we keep going  
**Jester:** why is Caleb in this group  
**Beauregard:** oh shit  
**Beauregard:** I dunno I guess I was just making a list of people I thought could help  
**Beauregard:** I forgot that idiot doesn’t know how to use technology

Beauregard removed Caleb from the group

 **Fjord:** you could’ve left him in  
**Fjord:** it would’ve been the same  
**Beauregard:** hey okay okay LOOK  
**Beauregard:** we need to stop getting distracted  
**Beauregard:** dumb new dawn is only like a week away  
**Jester:** four days  
**Fjord:** five days  
**Beauregard:** right  
**Beauregard:** so like,, Molly  
**Beauregard:** present  
**Beauregard:** help  
**Fjord:** I mean, I dunno, that guy likes anything flashy  
**Fjord:** and apparently he likes cad’s tea too  
**Fjord:** or maybe you should get him  
**Fjord:** uhhhhh maybe  
**Jester:** I got it 

\--------------------------------------

“Well? What do you think?” Jester waved a truly garish sweater around Beau’s face like a particularly stupid matador. “Would this make an old person throw up?”

Beau considered the terrible garment intensely, her hands pausing between a few jackets in front of her. “Mmm…no, probably not,” she sighed after a few seconds. “No, it’s not disgusting enough.”

“Drat,” Jester pouted. “Well, I’ll just put it on the ‘maybe’ pile.”

The two of them were standing at the back of Ruddy Top Thrift, a local secondhand store dealing in just about anything that could be sold and re-sold. Currently their focus lay in the clothing aisles, specifically a section filled to bursting with jackets and coats and sweaters galore.

Jester had a shopping cart parked at her side. It was home to a box of tools, a set of hair ribbons, and a fishing pole.

“I really don’t know why you have that,” Beau added as Jester tossed the knitted monstrosity into her cart. “You don’t even _fish_.”

“No, but Fjord does,” she shrugged. “And besides, it’s only two dollars.”

\--------------------------------------

Caduceus’s phone, resting peacefully on the counter next to him, chimed faintly. Soon after that, he stood up from his stool, dusted himself off, and stuck his head into the back room to let Nila know he was taking his break.

Then he collected his things, and shrugged on his coat, and headed out into the Pentamarket to run a few errands.

As he glanced around the cheery winter streets, he reached into his pocket and fished out the note that Nila had written for him this morning, when he’d inquired about magical items in the city.

 _The Invulnerable Vagrant_ , she had scrawled. _Ask for Prime_.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb bit down absent-mindedly at the end of his pencil as he stared at his notes. Then his eyes went wide with panic, because a piece of rubber had suddenly gotten caught in his teeth and now refused to be pulled out. And as he began the careful procedure of trying to dislodge this unruly eraser, the doors to the library slid open and a breath of cool air swept in.

It carried with it, for the second time in a few days, Mollymauk Tealeaf. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, and a friendly grin that turned absolutely delighted when he noticed Caleb’s current predicament. He waltzed over.

He leaned against the counter.

“Part of me wants to know why you’re wrestling a pencil out of your mouth,” he said, eyes glinting with the light. “Part of me is wondering how you’re doing such a bad job.”

Caleb yanked, and the eraser came free. He glowered at Molly. “You tell no one about this,” he warned. “My fragile self-esteem would not be able to handle it.”

Molly chuckled. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. “That _you_ know, anyways.”

“Well, I suppose that is all I can ask for.” Then Caleb raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times, truly processing who was standing here in front of him. He frowned. “What, er, brings you here today, Mister Mollymauk? I am still working, so I apologize if I do not entertain you.”

“You’re always entertaining, dear,” Molly grinned, and reached a hand into his bag and produced a small CD case. “But I was actually here to return this,” he placed the case onto the counter, “and hopefully, perhaps, get another book? Or not-book, as it were.”

Caleb deflated slightly. “Did you not like it?” he asked. “I know mythology can be boring to some—”

Molly shook his head and laughed. “No, no, dear,” he said. “I finished it. I was wondering if you had any recommendations for another.”

Caleb stared at Molly. His mouth almost dropped open, but he caught his chin in time.

“But this is…this…Mollymauk, this book is over five hundred pages long!”

“I know,” Molly said. “But the audiobook was only nine hours—”

“ _Only_ nine hours?”

“Right. I need another one.”

Caleb blinked a few more times. Then he shook his head in wonderment, and snorted, and stared up at Molly with eyes full of excitement.

“Well, then,” he said softly. “Well. Er…of course.”

He shifted towards the library computer, audiobook in hand, and then paused.

“But first,” he said slowly, turning back towards Mollymauk, “first, I must know. What did you think?”

The anticipation in Caleb’s expression made the answer want to trip right off Molly’s tongue, but he realized in that moment there was a better route he could take. His smile took on a hint of mischief. He leaned forward.

“Mister Caleb?”

“Yes?”

“How much longer ‘till the end of your shift?”

\--------------------------------------

Caduceus stared down at the name in his hands, and then back up at the name of this strange-looking store. The place certainly looked reputable enough; its walls were clean and sparkling, the gentle light from the interior hugged at its windowpanes. Its location this close to the Pentamarket also meant that the owner must’ve been doing quite well for themselves.

He slid the piece of paper back into his pocket. He drew up his shoulders, and pushed the door on inside.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb sat patiently in his usual chair at the Candleglow Café, basking in the warmth of its sweet-smelling air. His cheeks were red and his hair was plastered against his face from the snow, but the soft cushion on his chair and the clouds of fog on the windows beside him took the edge off the lingering outside cold. He folded his hands on the tabletop, let the peaceful comfort of the café blanket his shoulders, and waited.

After a few minutes, Molly returned bearing two steaming mugs of coffee. Caleb caught the sent immediately. His eyes went wide.

“ _Rüdesheimer Kaffee_?” he breathed. “You remembered?”

Molly laughed as he set their drinks down and took the seat across from him. “How could I forget?” he joked. “It was a staple of the frist time we spent, well, time together, yes?”

Caleb wrapped his fingers around the handle of his mug. It was warm.

“ _Ja_ ,” he murmured. “It was.”

“Now, I must warn you, “Molly said, lifting his own cup into the air, “I _did_ get brandy in them this time. It’s not much, but I figured we could use a kick to thaw out.”

Caleb pressed the coffee to his lips. “That _was_ a good idea,” he chuckled. “It is cold as balls out there.”

“Terrible weather to be caught in, that’s for sure,” Molly grinned. “I just hope New Dawn treats us better. There’s going to be a public festival then, you know, out in the Pentamarket, before they close the stalls up for the season.”

“Really?” Caleb gave an impressed nod. “Are you going to go?”

“Absolutely. And, actually,” he added brightly, “I was thinking about asking you all if you wanted to head over and take a look before going to Jester and Fjord’s apartment to watch the year end. I haven’t pitched it to the group, yet, but…if you’re interested?”

Caleb had come a long way, in these last few months.

“ _Ja_ ,” he said immediately. “Sounds like fun.”

Molly’s smile widened. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “And maybe we’ll get a chance to walk around ourselves a bit, eh? I apologize, for not spending any time with you last Saturday.”

Caleb bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, now, I also am, er, at fault for that—”

Molly waved a quick, dismissive hand. “Let’s just catch up now!” he declared. “You said you wanted to hear my opinion on _Before the River’s Dawn,_ yes? Because I certainly have some opinions.”

Caleb nodded instantly. “Yes, yes, of course! Tell me, what did you think?”

Molly leaned back and sighed dramatically, for effect. “Well, _first_ of all,” he said, “I can’t _believe_ the Sun was such an arse—”

\--------------------------------------

“Man, I _miss_ hanging out with you like this!” Jester said as she briefly considered a hideous-looking windbreaker. “You know, just the two of us, spending time together.”

Beau shrugged as noncommittally as she dared. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s weird not having you around all the time.”

Jester’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Awww, do you miss me?” she asked. “Do you miss being my roommate?”

Beau’s face twisted into a horrible amalgamation of conflicting masks. After a few seconds, her shoulders sagged and she sighed.

“Yeah…yeah, _maybe_.”

Jester’s next sound was a strangled pairing of delight and pity. She darted over to Beau’s side and wrapped an arm around her best friend’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I left you,” she declared. “and I’m sorry we’re not roomies anymore.”

Beau grunted. “’S fine,” she said. “You’ve got Fjord.”

Jester slowly pulled back. She studied Beau’s expression carefully. “And you’ve got Yasha, right?”

“More or less. Usually.”

Jester pursed her lips. “How’s it going, anyways?” she asked. “How _are_ you and Yasha?”

Beau considered this. She turned back towards the clothing rack and shoved her hands in between some sweaters.

“Could be worse,” she acknowledged eventually. “Yasha’s…fine.”

“Fine?” Jester asked. Then she waggled her eyebrows. “Or _fine_?”

“Fine,” Beau said decisively. “The first one. Nothing like that’s happened, not what you think—”

“—aw—”

“—but, uh…there has been _some_ stuff. Like…emotional crap.”

“ _Awwwww_! Wait, wait, really?” Jester threw her arms into the air. “Really-really? How emotional? Tusk-Love emotional or Shallow-Breaths emotional, because there are really different ways you can have emotions—”

Beau raised a finger. Jester went silent.

“You gotta _swear_ to me that you won’t say a word about this to anyone,” she said sternly. “ _Especially_ not to Molly.”

“I swear! Best friend’s honor.”

“And, for the record, I was fuckin’ _wasted_ when it happened,” Beau added. “So I’m not _completely_ sure about what went down.”

“Right, right, sure, sure!”

“And also, seriously, don’t ask me what this means. I don’t know what _any_ of it means, okay?” She wrung out her wrists. “I don’t know how to feel about it, and I don’t know what to do!”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Jester clapped her on the back. “That’s what _I’m_ for! Now come on, tell me!”

Beau turned and stared into the awful holiday sweaters. She bit her lip.

“Tusk-Love emotional.”   

Jester’s subsequent squealing could be heard down the block.

\--------------------------------------

“I am still amazed you managed to finish in such a short period of time,” Caleb mused as he drained the last of his cup. “I am a fast reader, but it took me a week of slacking on the job to finally reach the end of that novel.”

“Yes, well, I’ve had plenty of boring hours to myself,” Molly shrugged. “Your audiobook was actually a bit of a reprieve, if I’m being honest.”

Caleb blinked a few times. “Truly?” he asked. “I am glad to help, but if you do not mind my asking, I was under the impression you were always running off to, to…live life to the fullest, and all that.”

Molly snorted. “Maybe a few months ago, sure. Things are a bit different now, I suppose.”

“Different how?”

Molly’s shoulders sank. Just slightly, but enough for Caleb to notice. “The Moondrop’s closed down, now, so that took away a significant chunk of the things I usually get up to,” he sighed. “As for the, er, extracurriculars—” and here Molly’s gaze caught Caleb’s just before glancing down— “I haven’t really been in the mood for that sort of thing, lately.”

Caleb’s expression softened. He saw the forced smile on Molly’s lips, saw the man’s hand resting limply on the table, saw an opportunity waving its arms frantically in front of his face—

Caleb quickly shrunk back into himself, and braced himself to say nothing until the tension passed, as he always did—

And then suddenly, Jester’s voice surfaced to the forefront of his mind. Gentle in its admonishment but delivered with all the force of a friend exasperated by love:

_“Then why are you so damn worried?”_

Caleb sighed inwardly. She _was_ right, he supposed.

He took a deep breath. He reached out, past their empty mugs and Molly’s silent phone, and slid his fingers gently across the back of Molly’s hand.

He kept them there, even as the tiefling’s head snapped upwards.

Their gazes locked.

“Are you alright?” Caleb whispered.

For a moment, Molly just sat there in stunned silence. And then the corner of his mouth quirked upwards, and he gave Caleb a faint shrug.

“If I’m being honest?”

Caleb nodded.

“Ah. Well. Um…no. I’m, er, I’m not, dear.”

A few seconds passed. When neither of them continued to say anything else, Molly’s gaze fell to his empty mug and he shook his head quickly. “Nevermind,” he began, “you don’t need to—”

“You are sad, without your Moondrop.”

His gaze slowly trailed back up.

It hadn’t been a question.

“Yeah.”

Caleb nodded forlornly to himself. “I know you all like to call me dense, but I _did_ notice that. Somewhat,” he admitted. “And Nott tells me that you ask the group to ‘hang out’ more and more, ever since the incident happened.”

“Really?” Molly raised his eyebrows at that. “I didn’t think she was paying attention.”

Caleb chuckled. “Nott pays attention to everything. Even when we think she is not.”

Molly sighed, and threw an arm over the back of his chair. “I know I’m probably being dramatic,” he said, “but both of you are right. I _really_ don’t feel the same without it. I mean, _since_ I’m being honest now,” he chuckled faintly, “I’ll tell you that I don’t actually miss the sleeping around or the craziness of _that_ part of my life, but I do miss my other friends. My…well, my family. Technically my ‘first,’ family, I suppose. And if I’m being even _more_ honest…I miss singing. And I miss being on stage.”

“Woe is the peacock without his spotlight, eh?” Caleb murmured, and Molly started to laugh.

“Certainly,” he agreed. “But I’m not being fair to the others. I’m not the _only_ one who lost their livelihood because of the disaster, after all. I’m just the only one who can’t seem to move on.”

Caleb, for a just a moment, considered taking the other man’s hand again. But unfortunately, in that hesitation, Molly stole his fingers away and dropped his face into his palm.

“It wouldn’t be this bad if I could at least hope the Moondrop would make a comeback,” he groaned. “But after talking to Gustav yesterday, I just _know_ that there’s no way.”

Caleb blinked. “ _Was_?” he asked. “Wait, why not?”

Molly shoved his elbows onto the table. “Because, dear. He told me how much money we need, and hinted that the city is still waiting on that fine to be paid off. So now I’m even more worried that not only will we not be able to get the money, we also won’t be able to do it before the government just decides to take the _building_ as payment. And then I can kiss my old life—my old _family_ , my old home, the…the first place where I became _me_ , all of it—goodbye.”

Caleb’s eyes went wide. “But…but…hang on, how bad _is_ it? How much do you need?”

Molly threw his head back. “More than we could ever get,” he muttered darkly. “We need a hundred and—”

\--------------------------------------

“Take a break from freaking out for a second,” Beau said suddenly, gesturing towards the clothing rack. “Get a load of _this_.”

Jester reluctantly settled down. She leaned over. Her eyes went wide.

“Oh my gods,” she breathed immediately. “It’s…the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

\--------------------------------------

“—twenty _thousand_ dollars?” Caleb yelled. “ _Thousand_? _Dollars_?”

Molly waved his hands around, and Caleb realized suddenly that he was standing up. That there were a few other customers staring at him. He sheepishly looked over his shoulder, mouthed an apology to Thaddeus, retrieved his chair from the ground, and sat back down.

“ _Heilige verdammte Scheisse,_ Mollymauk.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose and stared down at the table. Then he glanced back up towards Molly.

“What is Gustav going to do about it?” he asked. “Is there at least, at least…a _plan_?”

Molly shrugged. “If there is, nobody’s telling me about it. I really do think they’re just going to try their best to raise as much money as they can, and when it doesn’t work, well…that’s that.”

“But, but, but…that cannot just be _that_ ,” Caleb protested. “That is their _life_! That is _your_ life! Can they not just, I do not know, petition the government, or some…” he trailed off, and rolled his own eyes.

“Of course not,” Molly and Caleb said at the same time.

“They certainly tried,” Molly added ruefully, “but nothing came of it. You’re looking at an ex-performer, dear, unless you know of a way to somehow get a bazillion dollars in a few days.”

Caleb felt a memory burst and fizzle at the back of his mind, like a sparkler in the hands of a child.

“A bazillion dollars,” he murmured, and stared at the countertop. “In a few days.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” Molly sighed. “They should’ve just _taken_ the Moondrop, that would’ve spared us the agony of hope, at least.”

At those words, another memory burst into prominence. This one was more like a deafening explosion.

“Agony,” Caleb muttered. “ _Ja_ , there is plenty of agony too.”

Molly shrugged. He leaned back and gestured to their empty cups. “I think we’ve spent enough time on that, though, dear. We should be thinking about happy things. Tell me, how are you doing with the Wichteln? Found your secret present yet?”

Caleb was so distracted that it took him a few seconds to fully process Molly’s question. Then one final recollection poked gently at the corner of his brain.

It was small, and friendly, and had eyes that glowed golden in the dark.

“Nott,” Caleb said, and Molly frowned slightly.

“Excuse me?”

“Nott,” Caleb repeated. He held up a finger and leveled it at Molly’s nose. “Tell me something, Mister Mollymauk.”

“Er…of course, dear.”

Caleb waved the finger around.

“If you could get Yasha any present in the world, any present at all, what would it be?” And then he hesitated, and added:

“Er…within a reasonable budget, that is.”

\--------------------------------------

As they stood at the edge of the platform, waiting for the train to take them back to their respective homes, Beau reached into her plastic bag and produced the main trophy of hers and Jester’s thrift-store expedition of the day.

She held it up to the dingy subway lighting, and nodded like a soldier coming home from war.

“It looks like a bowling alley carpet threw up on a wizard’s acid trip,” she murmured. “It looks like train-seat fabric made of a child’s worst nightmares.”

Jester looked up, nodded, met Beau’s gaze with teary eyes.

“It’s the _one_.”

\--------------------------------------

“Where were you today?” Nott asked, turning Frumpkin upside-down as Caleb walked through the front door with an armful of groceries and a face covered in frost. “You didn’t come home after work. I got worried.”

Caleb kicked his boots off and sent Nott a sheepish glance that immediately went stern. “Do not do that to my cat, please,” he said, and then added, “Sorry for not saying anything. I ended up getting coffee with Mollymauk. He came over while I was working, and waited until I finished my shift.”

Nott’s stare went narrow. “Really?” she asked. “You two had a date?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Not a date,” he sighed. “It has been months, _spatz,_ I think that joke may be getting old.”

She seemed like she didn’t quite believe him, but apologized regardless. “It’s just fun to tease,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “Did you have fun, on your not-date?”

Caleb leaned over and ruffled her hair affectionately. “ _Ja_ , it was plenty fun. Gave me a few things to think about. Oh, and he told me what you should get Yasha. It is surprising, but rather sweet, I think.”

Nott’s expression brightened. “Really?” she asked. “What is it?”

Caleb went to scratch behind Frumpkin’s ears.

“Flowers,” he said softly. “Yasha has a fondness for flowers.”

\--------------------------------------

 _Unnamed Group Chat: 3 Members  
_ Today | 6:14PM

 **Beauregard:** mission accomplished!  
**Beauregard:** thanks for not helping at all fjord|  
**Beauregard:** most appreciated  
**Fjord:** I really don’t have to put up with this you know  
**Fjord:** I give so much and ask for so little  
**Jester:** ask us what we got him, Fjord!  
**Fjord:** fine alright sure  
**Fjord:** what did you get him? 

Beauregard sent a photo 

 **Fjord:** good GODS what is that?  
**Jester:** its friendship fjord  
**Jester:** friendship, and every terrible design choice known to man 

\-------------------------------------- 

Today | 6:37PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** okay  
**Molly Tealeaf:** okayyyyy  
**Molly Tealeaf:** okayyyyyy????  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mister caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** MISTER CALEB  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good gods, mister caleb, WHAT are you trying to get across here?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and you wont correct me if im wrong  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was CERTAIN that we were on track to just be  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you know, good friends  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and because of that, it’s been honestly quite a bit since I texted you like this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** or at least, sang out into the void that is your inbox  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because gods, I thought it was sincerely time for me to step up and stop this backseat love nonsense I’ve got going on  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but now???  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mister caleb, what you did at the coffee shop  
**Molly Tealeaf:** again, you won’t correct me if im wrong  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but I MUST be onto something if I’m wondering whether or not that wasn’t entirely platonic, yes?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** oh gods, what does this mean  
**Molly Tealeaf:** is there pHD in sending mixed signals or something, because you, my friend, should teach classes 

Mollymauk Tealeaf, holding his phone up to his mouth with its speech-to-text app cocked like a loaded crossbow, paced barefoot across the floor of his room with his bathrobe swinging out behind him. In the distance, through the posteréd walls, he could hear the faint drawl of Caduceus’s radio and the heavy whirr of the kitchen fan.

“And _another_ thing,” Molly continued, shaking his head and shaking his fist, “what in the gods’ name possessed you to ask me if I was alright?!—send—you can’t just _do that—_ send! You can’t just say that to me, in my point of lowest emotional being—send—whether or not I’m alright—send! Mister Caleb…gods, Mister Caleb, I can’t tell whether I can love you or—”

His phone suddenly _dinged_ , scaring him shitless and causing him to launch the object across the room in surprise. It landed on his bed, where he watched it continue to vibrate for a few more seconds before going still.

He sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods that were listening and hoped that it wasn’t Caleb who had messaged him, and went to assess the damage.

Nott TB: 3 New Messages _  
_ Today | 6:49PM

 **Nott TB:** hi molly  
**Nott TB:** caleb told me you helped with the yasha stuff and I just wanted to say thanks  
**Nott TB:** and if you need, I think I know a way to pay you back

He felt his heartbeat gradually return to normal. Of _course_ it wouldn’t be Caleb. He sat back down.

 **Molly Tealeaf:** hello dear, no worries, I’m happy to help  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but now I would like to know, what did you have in mind?

There were a few seconds, as he waited for her answer.

 **Nott TB:** you’ve got caleb for the Wichteln right  
**Nott TB:** I saw you slip something out of your sleeve when you picked your name  
**Nott TB:** you rigged it right

Molly considered the screen for a few moments. He remembered what Caleb had said to him earlier today. She really _did_ pay attention.

 **Molly Tealeaf:** maybe so  
**Molly Tealeaf:** are you going to tattle on me, Nott the Brave?  
**Nott TB:** HAH  
**Nott TB:** hell no im not a snitch  
**Nott TB:** im going to make you an offer  
**Nott TB:** I want caleb to get a good present  
**Nott TB:** and I want it to come from you  
**Nott TB:** if you come pick me up tomorrow, I can help you do that

Molly raised his other eyebrow. And then he started to laugh.

 **Molly Tealeaf:** Nott, my dear  
**Nott TB:** yes?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you’re on

\--------------------------------------

And as this was happening, as Nott continued her rather animated texting storm with whoever was on the other line, Caleb finished putting away the last of the groceries into the fridge. He balled up the plastic bags to save for later, and tucked them neatly into a drawer.

Then he went into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

In the silence, in the dark, just as he finished peeling the layers off and started to reach for his ratty but well-loved sweatshirt, he paused.

He straightened up.  

He stared down at his torso, and remembered.

“Molly needs the money,” he murmured to himself. “Molly is sad. Molly is in danger of losing the first place he ever loved.”

He pressed a palm to his stomach, where scars should have torn across pale skin.

“But it is also dangerous,” he sighed. “It is _more_ than dangerous, it is _deadly_. You cannot die so soon, Mister Widogast. You have not nearly atoned for the things you have done.”

He curled his fingers slowly against his gut. He kicked at the carpet below his feet.

“Do you deserve this chance to do something right? Do you believe this is a cause that can make up for your sins? Is this something you need to do? Is this something you should do? Is this something you _want_ to do?”

His fingernails dug into flesh. He raised a fist, and closed his eyes.

“Then why are you so _damn_ worried?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWENTY, WE'VE HIT CHAPTER 20, THIS STORY SERIOUSLY ESCALATED, HUH? And y'all are here reading, which makes my lil writer heart grow three sizes every time! Thank you SO much for reading and commenting and generally sharing this fic, seriously, y'all are probably 70% of the reason I've made it this far, and why I'm having so much fun writing this piece!! I really, genuinely, cannot say how much I appreciate you guys, and seriously, THANK YOU!!! Reading your comments and your theories and having some of you scream to me about this fic on tumblr has been an amazing experience, and I've met so many amazing critters this way, and <33333 to you all.
> 
> Things are going to get pretty wild, soon, and you can expect some crazzzyyyy things to start happening circa chapters 23-25, so hang on in there!! Of course, as you know, between updates you can find me on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock)All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!!
> 
> and one more time, <33333333333333333
> 
> ( **EDIT:** The absolutely fantastic and incredible and amazing [@sameshork](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/) STRIKES AGAIN WITH ART OF THE COFFEE SCENE [THAT OBLITERATED MY SOUL AND IT'S SO AMAZING, GO FORTH! WITNESS IT!](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/post/181014268605/are-you-alright-caleb-whispered-for-a-moment) IM ,, DYING it was so fast too holy shit <33)


	21. All Things Considered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comin' at you live, from a woman who just finished her finals: Caleb Works it Out; Molly and Nott's Adventure; Jester Freezes Fjord; The Caduceus Subplot Strikes Again; Realizations: Bravery, When You Need it Most; Three More People

“So… _why_ did you want to talk to me today?”

“Because I thought you would give the best advice.”

“Right, right, you said that already. But why are we doing this at the _gym_?”

Beauregard and Caleb Widogast sat along the benches by the far wall of Sieversii College’s best and only fitness center, surveying the empty mats and exercise machines around them. There were no students around this early in the morning, which meant not only that they were free to use whatever equipment they wanted, but also that Beauregard, currently, was the only witness being subjected to the visual atrocity that was Caleb's "workout gear."

It consisted mainly of a t-shirt, too-big basketball shorts, and a sweatband wrapped across his forehead. It was blue. It had a white stripe going down the middle.

“And your socks are ridiculous,” Beau added, mercy being something that other people provided. “You can’t wear shin-high socks and shorts. And also, just in general, never wear shorts again. Your legs are so pale that they’re glowing. It’s like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, except the light is hideous and covered in hair.”

“Are you quite finished?”

“This is why I’m a lesbian.”

Caleb groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Sue me, okay?” he muttered glumly. “I thought this would be the best environment for us to talk. Fjord says that this is where you two have all _your_ heart-to-hearts.”

“First of all,” she grumbled, “I’ve never had a heart-to-heart with _anyone_ , so jot that down. And secondly, I’m gonna _kill_ Fjord for saying that. And thirdly, yeah, alright, _maybe_ we do. But that’s because we _both_ like working out, idiot. If you don’t like this place, we can go somewhere else.”

Caleb sighed. “We are already here. And I would not want to interrupt your morning routine. I can just…count your repetitions, or something.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “What else am I going to do? Exercise?”

\--------------------------------------

Nott would never have allowed Molly to carry her on his shoulders, nor did she want to hold his hand; and she almost called it a day right then and there when he suggested they use a kid-leash, until she practically growled at him and he clarified that  _he_ would be wearing the leash.

“I could make it work,” he added as they did their best to not get separated in the crowded square. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Stop being nasty,” she groaned, pulling her hood down around her face. “I swear to the gods I’m going home if you’re going to keep being like this.”

“No, no, please!” Molly laughed. “I need all the help I can get. There’s only a few days left, and I still have _nothing._ ”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not even an idea?” she asked. "Not even a plan?”

He shook his head sadly.

“Gods, are you _serious_? I’m starting to think Caleb deserves someone _else_ to woo him.”

Molly pouted down at her unrelenting frown, then he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Come _on_ , Nott the Brave, come on! I helped you, now help me too! Please?”

She grimaced. “Fine. Fine! But only because you’re so hopeless.”

\--------------------------------------

“I can’t wait to finally have a _clean_ apartment,” Jester hummed, reaching down to put away another plate. "No more boxes, no more crates, no more worrying about whether or not we lost anything in the move!”

“But we should still do one last check,” Fjord reminded her, as he sorted through a box of silverware. “Just in case.”

“I know, I know,” she nodded. “I’m just excited! I tripped on loose packing tape yesterday, and nearly scraped my arm."

"Oh, jeez, were you alright?"

"It was fine," she giggled. Then she glanced over her shoulder and added, "Would you mind passing me those pots and pans? The ones by your feet? I’ll get started on them next.”

\--------------------------------------

This time, Caduceus didn’t hesitate before nudging his way through the front door. As he entered, bag over his shoulder and hat in hand, he nodded to the nearest of three identical firbolgs and said, "Good morning, sir. Is your brother in, today? I'm here to pick up a package."

The firbolg grinned at him, leaned against his broom and nodded. “Prime’s in the back,” he said cheerfully. “He told us to expect you.”

\--------------------------------------

“…forty-three…forty-four…forty-five…”

“Are you actually gonna _ask_ your question?” Beau's nose touched the floor for the forty-fifth time that morning. “This is starting to get a little weird.”

“—six…forty-seven… _ja_ , I am sorry, I am just trying to think of how to say it right. There are, ah, some details that I would like to keep to myself, please. Also, fifty.”

“Gods, are you expecting me to pull it outta you, or something?" she groaned. “You’re so shitty with your emotions.”

“Fifty-two, that was rude.”

“I know.”

Caleb was silent a few moments more, his brain subconsciously handling the rest of the counting. Then he took a deep breath and sighed.

“Beauregard, you are one of the only two people still in my life who know what I have done.”

She turned, mid-pushup, to face him. “Yeah?” she asked. “What about it?”

Caleb twisted at the strings on his shorts.

“Would you say that I am…I am a good person?”

She seemed to consider this briefly, before looking back down at the mat.

“Nah,” she said. “Not really.”

A month ago, Caleb would have nodded along. But right now, after everything else, he felt a pang of disappointment.

“Really?”

She would have shrugged, had she not been otherwise occupied. “Don’t sound so sad, gods. I just meant that…I dunno, I’m not someone who can judge that. What the fuck do _I_ know about being a good person? How many pushups am I on?”

“Sixty-three. I thought you would be more…helpful than this.”

Beau sighed. “Look, Caleb,” and here she stuck a hand out and waved it around, which was rather impressive, “look, if you’re askin’ _me_ —”

“Which I am.”

“—shut up, _since_ you’re askin’ me, I’m just gonna tell you what _I_ think. And I think, that you can’t say there are good people or bad people, that easily. Well, okay, there are plenty of people that fucking suck, and should absolutely rot in the Nine Hells, but they’re different. Right now, I’m talkin’ about…I dunno, normal folks.”

“I would not say what I did was _normal_ , Beauregard.”

She snorted, shook her head. “Right, okay, fine. That’s true. But you’re not doing that stuff _anymore_ , right?” She raised an eyebrow. “And I think it’s safe to say that you learned your fuckin’ lesson, and paid your fuckin’ price.”

“But did I?” Caleb leaned forward. “ _Did_ I pay it? How can you be sure? How can you say that?”

She hesitated, and then sighed again. “Alright. Okay. I guess I can’t. But that’s the thing, right? _Nobody_ can. Nobody but you, ‘cause you’re the only one in your head. All _I_ can see, all the rest of us can see, is the things that you do. And we can look at your actions, and we can say ‘oh, that’s a good thing,’ or we can say, ‘oh, that’s a bad thing,’ but really, _really_ , a lot of the time, we don’t know. I don’t know. Are you doing it for a shitty reason? Are you doing it for a good reason? Do you and Nott steal to make other people miserable, or do you do it to survive? Does she do it because she _has_ to? Do people get hurt? How does _that_ factor in?”

Caleb stared down at the mat. “I am not sure,” he murmured after a while. “We do not like it when people suffer unnecessarily. But we still do it. Is that bad?”

“I dunno,” Beau said. “That’s not for me to decide. It’s for _you_ to decide. Are you paying attention to how your actions can affect others? Are you trying to make other people happy, too? Are you doing your best to just be as good as you _can_? I don’t really think it matters if it works, or not. Just that you tried.”

His lips drew out into a thin line as he considered this. "But how am I supposed to make other people happy, when I should not be letting other people judge if I am good?”

She shook her head. “You can judge your own actions, based on their reactions. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t pay attention to what others think. You…you _should_ do that, actually, because that shit’s important. But that shouldn’t be the _only_ thing you base it on. What if someone makes you do something that _you_ hate, but they love? Or what if you’re doing something you love, that other people hate? You’ve gotta figure out which one is right, and then you gotta adapt.”

“So…you are telling me, that in order for me to make up for all the suffering I have caused, I need to do things that I think are right?" he asked. "And my own suffering is justifiable, if it is for the right reasons?”

Beau paused. “Well. I mean. Up to a point? Why, what the fuck are you thinking of doing?”

Caleb threw his face back into his hands. “I do not _know,_ anymore! I think I am even more unsure than when I started.”

She nodded. “How many pushups am I on?”

His answer was slightly muffled. “One hundred and two…one hundred and three…”

After hitting the 125-mark, Beau stopped. She sat down on the mat, and looked up at Caleb.

“All I’m saying,” she said slowly, “all I’m saying, is that you should try as hard as you can to do what you _think_ is right. And you’ve got friends, whether you like it or not, and we’ll let you know if it is. And we’ll help you do it. And in _my_ opinion, _that’s_ how you know if you’re good or not. Does that make sense?”

Caleb was quiet for a moment. And then:

“… _ja_. _Ja_ , I think so.”

“Cool,” she nodded. “Now come on, pick up your dinky little water bottle, we’re here and I might as well teach you how to do a sit-up.”

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, hang on, there’s one more pan for you.”

Jester reached a hand back, wiggled her fingers and waited for Fjord to pass it over.

\--------------------------------------

"He has enough of those, already. Something else!"

Molly hung the scarf back against the rack, to the disappointment of a sales rep who had been hovering around their periphery for the last twenty minutes.

“Alright, you’ve shot down literally every item of clothing I've suggested so far,” he said, crossing his arms and staring down at Nott. “What else do you want to try, _cookware_?”

“If you want to," she shrugged. "I’m following _you_ around, today, remember?”

“But I thought you were going to be _helpful_ ," he sighed. "Didn’t you come along in the first place because you wanted me to get Caleb a good present?”

“I can’t just _tell_ you what to get him!” she protested. “How cold is that?”

“I told _you_ what to get Yasha.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to impress Yasha. I don’t have a _crush_ on Yasha. I don’t have impure intentions with Yasha—”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my intentions with Caleb are one _hundred_ percent pure.”

Nott raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Really?” she asked. “Are you being serious?”

Molly made an ‘x’ over his heart. “Deathly.”

She seemed unwilling to believe him. “I always heard you were …you know, all about the physical stuff, though. The _nasty_ stuff. That’s what Beau said, anyways, before I met you.”

“Wait." He frowned. "Do you…do you _believe_ that?”

Nott held up a finger, opened her mouth. Then she hesitated.

“Well,” she muttered eventually, “maybe a _little_. At least…I guess I thought that, at first.”

“Is _this_ why you don’t like me, Nott the Brave?”

She rolled her eyes almost immediately. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “That kind of stuff doesn’t matter. The reason I don’t like you because I think you’re a know-it-all. And you’re too stubborn. But, I mean…it’s not that I _don't_ like you,” she clarified, almost reluctantly. “I _do_ like you. Not in a weird way. In a…in a friend way.”

Molly tapped his chin. He tilted his head to one side.

“Was that a compliment?” he hazarded eventually. “Are you…trying to be nice to me?”

This won a small laugh. “ _I_ thought so! Did it work?”

“It could’ve been a little…you know. Nicer.”

She sighed. She reached up, and gave him a pat on the hip because that was as high as she could get.

“You make my friends happy. You’re…you know…fun to be around. And you care about all of us, and our lives… _my_ life, wasn’t so colorful before you turned up.”

She leaned back, blinked those huge golden eyes at him.

“Did _that_ work?” she asked.

\--------------------------------------

“No, you have to…gods, just…you have a stomach, right? Just _clench_ that, real hard.”

“I am _trying_ , Beauregard…this is as hard as it goes.”

\--------------------------------------

Molly grinned. He reached down, and Nott begrudgingly allowed him to ruffle her hair.

“You _are_ full of surprises.”

She rolled her eyes, and after a few moments of enjoyment she’d never admit to anyone, pushed him away.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said. “Now come on, time to pick a different store! We've been here for _ages_ , I think they're going to arrest us for loitering soon."

\--------------------------------------

“Why, hello, there!” grinned Enchanter Pumat Sol as Caduceus Clay walked in through the workshop curtain. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon, good to see you.”

Caduceus nodded, answered with a smile of his own. “Good to see you too, Mister Sol. Am I early? I can come back later, if—”

"No, no, you're just fine. " He beckoned for Caduceus to come closer. “I’ve had it done since last night. And please, call me Pumat.”

“I’ll have to insist you call me Caduceus, then,” said Caduceus as he took a step forward. “I hope you didn’t stay up too late.”

The enchanter chuckled and shook his head. “It was my pleasure. This was a fascinating request; I don’t get many people coming in these days asking for this sort of magic. Especially when we have—” his tone soured only slightly, “—the wonders of modern technology.”

Caduceus shrugged. “I like doing things the old-fashioned way. It feels more…honest.”

Pumat’s smile brightened. “I couldn’t agree more. Now, let me see…I think I put it one of the drawers…”

As he turned around and started rummaging through a veritable menagerie of towering shelves, moving cubbies, stray vials of strange bubbling liquids and hundreds upon hundreds of small tools and loose gems, Caduceus leaned back against a cabinet and tried to strike up a conversation.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask yesterday,” he said slowly, watching the enchanter work, “but I’ll admit, I’ve been a little curious. Is this a family establishment? Are you the owner?”

“Owner, manager, head of sales, I handle all the roles!” Pumat called. His voice was muffled slightly by a loose cabinet. “It’s a lot of work, but I have pretty reliable help.”

“My siblings and I helped around our family business too,” Caduceus said with a faint nod. “It’s nice, I always thought.”

“Have many of those, then? Siblings?”

Caduceus chuckled. “Absolutely. Though we weren’t all at once, I imagine your mother must’ve gone through a lot, in that, er, department.”

To his surprise, Pumat stopped searching. He took a step back, retrieved his head from under a desk, and turned around to face him with a puzzled expression.

“Now…what gives you that idea?” he asked.

Caduceus blinked. He very slowly raised a hand, and pointed a finger towards the curtain.

“The…your twins? Or, ah…quadruplets, maybe?”

For a moment, Pumat Sol didn’t answer. And then he burst into laughter and shook his head.

“Those aren’t…oh, those aren’t my siblings, those are me!”

\--------------------------------------

“You know,” Nott said after Molly suggested buying a book that Caleb already had, “I was going to wait for you to figure this out for yourself. But I’m starting to think I should just say: you’re going about it all wrong.”

He set a fountain pen down and turned around. “Really?” his tone wasn't affronted yet, but it would be soon. “Tell me, dear, what am I _supposed_ to be doing?”

She gestured towards the shops, waved a grand arc across the picturesque holiday scene around them. “Caleb isn’t the kind of person who likes _stuff_. I mean, sure, he _likes_ stuff,” she amended hastily, “but we both traveled light for a long time. We’re used to not caring about having, you know, a hundred different kinds of pants or something.”

“Was that aimed at me? Because I don’t have a _hundred_ pairs—”

She shook her head quickly. “I just meant that, in general, trying to get Caleb things, like, _material_ things, isn’t going to work. Buying him magic stuff _might,_ but I don’t know much about how to do that. And spell components are useful, but not so great for gifts, usually.”

“I can hardly imagine turning up for the exchange with a handful of molasses and some bat shit, so yes," Molly agreed. "But what's your _point_ , dear?”

“What’s something that Caleb says about himself _all_ the time?” Nott asked. “Something that would help you figure out how to get him a good present?”

Molly stared at her, and she could practically see the gears turning. “I dunno,” he tried eventually, “he’s Zemnian? He likes cats?”

She rolled her eyes. “Something _else_ ,” she said. “Come on, he talks about it _nonstop_.”

Molly raised his arms into the air. “He’s good at magic? He always knows which way north is? He always knows the time? Not that that’s so impressive, we _all_ have phones.”

"You're getting warmer."

“He reads twice as fast as anyone else,” Molly said, ticking them off on his fingers. “He’s super-smart, he can cast magic without even thinking about it, he never forgets any—huh.” Molly blinked. “Wait. Never...forgets..."

He whirled around, stared scanning across the stores and booths behind them until he landed on the very stall he was looking for. He rubbed his chin. There was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“If Caleb doesn’t want something _material_ …” he murmured, “I can get him something that isn’t.” He spun back around and grinned at Nott. “What a better present, for a man with a perfect memory, than an _experience_?”

She practically beamed in response. It was the nicest expression Nott had ever shown him, even with the miles of razor-sharp fangs.

“That’s the ticket!” she nodded. “Good j—”

Molly grabbed her by the hand and started dragging them both through the crowd.  

“It isn’t yet, dear!" he laughed. "But don't worry, it _will_ be.”

\--------------------------------------

“You’re doing it! You’re doing it! Just imagine I’m holding a cat, a great big cat, but it’s in my arms and if you want to pet it, you have to sit up and come get it.”

Caleb huffed, his back straining with effort to remain a few inches off the ground. “If…I wanted a cat…” he grumbled, “I could just…snap my fingers…poof…there is…cat.”

Beau rolled her eyes. “But you can’t,” she said. “That’s against the rules.”

“What…what rules…?”

“This is my gym. My word is _law_ here, so you—”

There was a sudden buzz, from Beau’s backpack on the bench behind them. She leaned over—releasing Caleb’s feet in the process and throwing him instantly off-balance—and fished her cell phone out from one of the pockets.

Caleb pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Why did you feel the need to do that?” he grumbled.

“Because it was funny,” Beau said absently. “Now shut up, I’ve got a…holy…oh my _gods_.”

Caleb blinked, and shuffled closer. “What is it?” he asked. “What is the matter?”

She flipped the screen around.

“Speaking of funny,” she grinned, “speaking of…oh gods, get a load of _this_.”

\--------------------------------------

“I am so, so, so sorry!” Jester cried, though the tears in her eyes were half from laughter. “It just—it just hit me, I didn’t mean to do it on purpose!”

Fjord whacked at his legs with a metal saucepan, to no avail. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” he sighed, “ _I’m_ just sorry I smacked you with the handle, now. _Especially_ now that my entire lower body’s startin’ to go numb.”

Jester, still struggling speak, rolled against the kitchen counter. “I didn’t know that would happen!” she breathed. “I didn’t…I didn’t know it would be so…oh _man_ , I’m sorry.”

Ribbons of frost peeled off the enormous sheet of ice that had just enveloped Fjord from the waist down. It chilled the air in the kitchen, glinted menacingly under the sunlight coming in through their window. Every once in a while, a tiny bead of condensation would trickle down its surface, signaling that, yes, the ice _was_ melting—albeit at the crawl speed of a glacier.

Fjord felt like he was standing in cement. He tried once more to free himself, and added another nasty dent to the pan.

“Beau says they’re on the way right now,” Jester volunteered, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye and doing her best to be supportive. “Plus, she was already with Caleb, so it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Thank the gods for that,” Fjord sighed, and went in for Dent #3. “Otherwise we would’ve had to wait for someone to hunt ‘im down. Are you _sure_ you don’t have any fire magic on you?”

Jester giggled. “Nope. Unless you want to find out what radiant damage would do to ice, though I _might_ hit you also.  It’s kind of a beam that descends from the sky, I’m not sure how…choosy it is.”

Fjord put the saucepan on the counter. He rubbed his temples. “Let’s not risk it,” he muttered. “I think I’ve had enough physical harm done to me today.”

Jester wasn’t doing too bad a job at looking sympathetic, given the hilarity of this situation. “I _am_ really sorry about this,” she said, and gave him a not-very-helpful pat on the arm. “Do you want…I don’t know, do you want a blanket while we wait?”

Fjord stared down at his legs. He thought about the frostbite he was definitely getting through his sweatpants, and sighed.

“Yes, please. And…some hot chocolate, while you’re at it?”

\--------------------------------------

Caduceus admired the little green pouch in his palms, then beamed up at the enchanter.

“This is wonderful,” he said, and Pumat’s proud smile went even prouder. “How much do I owe you?”

The other firbolg shook his head. “Nothing. This one’s on the house.”

“What?” Caduceus’s eyebrows shot up. “Real… _really_?”

Pumat Sol nodded amiably. “It’s not often I get to meet another firbolg,” he said. “Especially one as…interesting as you, think of it as a, a…’thank you.’ Or a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift.”

“But I can’t accept this for free,” Caduceus protested. “You did such a wonderful job, you should be compensated.”

Behind them, the other Pumats—copies, Caduceus had learned, not siblings—were whispering something.

Prime, however, leaned forward against the counter, past the cash register, and met Cadcueus’s gaze. “You mentioned…er…you mentioned before that you sell tea, right?”

“That’s right,” he nodded immediately. “I make it myself.”

Pumat Prime almost hesitated. But then he seemed to take a deep breath, nod to himself, put on a faint smile, and asked:

“Do you think…do you think maybe I could try it, sometime?”

\--------------------------------------

The door swung open, Beau slamming it back to reveal a haggard-looking Caleb, rolling up his coat-sleeves.

“Alright,” he began, “what seems to be the—”

They both looked at Fjord and Jester. Fjord and Jester looked at them.

There was a moment of silence, where the ice crackled faintly and the heater hummed behind them.

And then Jester, voice on the edge of collapse once more, ran forward and cried, “Caleb. _Caleb_. _Caleb!_ What are you _wearing_?!”

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, I can bring it whenever—”

Prime held up a finger.

“With, ah…with you too, maybe?”

\--------------------------------------

Molly held his prizes up in the air, waved them around and let the sun glimmer off the silver trim.

“Fancy,” he said appreciatively. “Good style.”

“I liked it there,” Nott agreed; she was munching on something down at his left. “I love it when places have free candy.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. There were clouds of peppermint dusting the air around her mouth. “That can’t be good for you,” he said, “your teeth are going to rot.”

She stuck her tongue out and it was pink, which was not the right color. “I’m a goblin,” she said firmly. “Our teeth follow different rules.”

For a while, filled with the sound of minty crunching, Molly debated continuing this argument. Then he sighed, and decided to be the bigger person.

“Have you gotten your plant for Yasha, yet?” he asked, changing the subject. “We’re in the Pentamarket, we might as well go together.”

Nott seemed surprised by his offer. “Really?” she asked. “You _want_ to?”

He shrugged. “I’m not _only_ doing this for Caleb, dear. I told you a while back, didn’t I? If all our friends are going to be friends, we might as well be too.”

Nott thought about this. And then she grinned, and nodded her head.

“Okay,” she said. “Sure! Let’s go do that, er…new friend?”

“…we’ll work on it.”

“I can keep calling you ‘purple bastard’ if you like.”

“I think I’d actually prefer that, if I’m honest.”

\--------------------------------------

“I will leave Fjord to turn into a popsicle if you continue to laugh at me.”

“It’s just…it’s just…” Jester cackled, “Caleb, you have to _warn_ me if you’re going to dress like that!”

He groaned, and shook his head.

“I am not helping either of you until someone gets me some different pants.”

\--------------------------------------

For a moment, Caduceus was speechless. Then a small smile crept across his face.

“You know...that actually sounds pretty nice,” he murmured. “Sure. It would be my pleasure.”

\--------------------------------------

About twenty minutes had gone by. Now the ice was finally starting to thaw out in significant quantities, forming an enormous puddle across the kitchen tiles and soaking the bottoms of the cabinets. Beau had run off in search of a bucket, and Jester had retreated up onto the nearest counter to keep her feet from getting wet.

“I just…I still cannot _believe_ you did this,” Caleb said, now wearing a pair of Fjord’s jeans and armed with flame-wreathed hands. “Jester, that is…incredible.”

She grinned, swung her feet and nodded. “Thanks! It was an accident.”

His eyebrows went up. “You did this by _accident_?”

“You think she did it on _purpose_?” Fjord spluttered. “Why in the gods’ names would she do this on _purpose_?”

“I do not know what you two do in your free time,” he shrugged. “Least of all to each other.”

Fjord’s face went a fascinating shade of deep green. Caleb could practically see all emotion shutting down behind his eyes, and he was sure that the half-orc would’ve just turned around and left if he could. Jester was now laughing so hard she was in danger of falling off the counter.

“I think you broke him!” she giggled delightedly. “Look at him, he’s—”

There was a heavy _crack_ , from just about the area around Fjord’s thighs. A chunk of ice came careening down, finally melted down enough to fall apart. Caleb immediately moved his hands closer, started running them across thin fissures and what he imagined must’ve been weak points, until finally another piece snapped off, and then another, and another, until finally all the ice came clattering down like a too-thick hula hoop made of frost and bad decisions.

Fjord instantly took a step back. It was wobbly, but full of relief. “Gods,” he breathed, leaning against the counter, “gods, _thank_ you.” He nodded to Caleb, then started to jiggle his feet. “Man, I missed this.”

Beau rounded the corner from the hallway and strode into the kitchen carrying two mops and some towels.

She grinned when she saw that Fjord was free, and immediately handed one to him.

“Can you walk?” she asked. “’Cause if you can, I could use the help.”

\--------------------------------------

Molly crouched down to get a better look, mindful of his nose and remembering not to get too close; he had already tucked his tail into the belt of his jeans and was keeping an eye on where he waved his arms.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “She likes _flowers_ , remember.”

“It says here that it’ll have flowers,” Nott pointed out, gesturing to a small placard. “Says right here, it’ll have flowers at around Merryfrond’s Day.”

“When the hell is that?”

Nott’s finger drifted further down. “Spring,” she hazarded eventually. “Nearly summer. And, anyways, _I_ think it’s a great present.”

“Really?” Molly asked, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Why’s that, then?”

“Because it’s not hard to take care of!” she said. “And it’ll make sure she comes back, because she’ll be responsible for keeping it alive. And, like you said, she likes flowers.”

Molly considered this for a moment.

“Huh,” he said eventually. “That’s…not bad.”

Nott smirked. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she said. “And also, it’s kind of prickly. So maybe it’ll remind her of Beau.”

\--------------------------------------

“Pass me the bucket?” Jester asked, and Fjord nearly threw his back out running over to make sure Beau didn’t hit her with it by accident.

“Relax,” said the monk, rolling her eyes at him. “I lived with Jester for _ages_ , nothing like this ever happened to us. I’m honestly amazed you managed to do this in literally just two weeks.”

“It was an accident,” Fjord muttered. “Sue me. And I _am_ sorry, Jes, I really am.”

“Don’t worry,” she waved a dismissive hand, “I think you’ve more than apologized by now!”

“ _Ja_ , and now _you_ know, Fjord,” said Caleb, from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, “now you know that if you cross her, she will fuck you up.”

Fjord rolled his eyes. “I _already_ knew that,” he said. “You remember our fight with Kylre? She’s a badass.”

Jester giggled, and hit him playfully with a towel.

And in that moment, as Fjord moaned and pretended to be shot, as Beau’s eyes lit up, as she suddenly wrung her own towel out and started advancing on Caleb with the eyes of a killer, as Caleb yelped and ran around the puddle and tried to hide behind Jester, as he failed spectacularly to not slip against the tiles, as his feet flew up into the air, as he fell to the ground with a hearty _thud,_  as all of that happened, in that moment, he realized something.

It should have been more dramatic, all things considered.

It should have come with some kind of sign, some sort of holy light, maybe a harp in the distance or victorious trumpets overhead. There should have been the feeling of a weight lifted, a sensation of bliss, a caress of angel’s feathers and a warm voice like cotton clouds that whispered, _Don’t you see? Don’t you hear? Don’t you get it_?

But there was nothing like that. Life doesn’t work that way.

Instead, one minute, Caleb was simply lying face-up in a puddle in Fjord and Jester’s kitchen, watching his friends’ faces swim into view. He saw the glee in Beau’s eyes and heard the laughter in Jester’s smile, felt Fjord’s hands help him sit up and hand him a towel, and then the next minute, the next minute, well…

He was still in Fjord and Jester’s kitchen. His friends were still there. Beau wore a shit-eating grin, Jester was gigging up a storm, Fjord’s expression was half-parts sympathy, half-parts delight.

There _was_ a voice, though. His own, much lighter than it had ever been before:

 _You know what? Fuck it._ This _is something you have now,_   _and this something worth protecting._

He lay there a few moments more, drinking in the sound.

“Yes,” he murmured softly, “it is.”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “What is?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

“Did you hit your head?” Beau added. “Are you good?”

He reached a hand up, shook some water out of his hair, massaged the back of his skull. “Er…ah… _ja_ ,” he said. “Yes, I am fine.”

Fjord held the towel out again and chuckled. “Today just isn’t our day, huh?”

Caleb stared at it. Then he glanced around, grinned at the others, held up a drenched sleeve, and said:

“I think I may need to go fetch a bigger towel.”

\--------------------------------------

It occurred to him, nearly an hour later—after they had finished mopping up the rest of the water and Jester had offered to make some tea and find the cookies—that there was also something _else_ he needed to do.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 3:52PM

 **Jester:** Hello nott, this is Caleb  
**Jester:** are you around?  
**Nott TB:** hey caleb!!  
**Nott TB:** where are you right now?  
**Jester:** well  
**Jester:** at jester and fjord’s house  
**Jester:** they needed some magic help, for a moment  
**Jester:** did you have fun today?  
**Nott TB:** I did!  
**Nott TB:** I’ll tell you all about it, and I’ve also got yasha’s present now  
**Nott TB:** molly helped me get it  
**Nott TB:** look its really cool 

Nott TB sent a photo

 **Jester:** wow what is that  
**Nott TB:** I have no idea!!  
**Nott TB:** isn’t that awesome  
**Jester:** that is pretty cool  
**Jester:** and I would like to hear about your adventure when I get home  
**Jester:** but first  
**Jester:** would you happen to know where Molly is?  
**Jester:** I have a question I need to ask him, before I run out of bravery again  
**Nott TB:**?????????????  
**Nott TB:** do you need me to come??  
**Nott TB:** is everything okay?????  
**Nott TB:** are you gonna  
**Nott TB:** do you need me???  
**Jester:** I always need you spatz  
**Jester:** but right now, I think I should to do this by myself  
**Jester:** do not worry, I will consult you afterwards if necessary  
**Nott TB:** I have no idea whats happening but im gonna say its necessary!!  
**Jester:** okay  
**Jester:** where is he, please?  
**Nott TB:** Pentamarket  
**Nott TB:** I left him by the apple cider stall 

\--------------------------------------

Beau suddenly paused, mid-biscuit, and glanced around the kitchen.

“Hang on, hang on,” she said. “Where did Caleb go?”

Jester shrugged and reached for another cookie. “He said he had an appointment he forgot about. He said it was important.”

She considered this for a moment.

“Is he _dying_?”

Fjord fished a shortbread out of the tin.

“I sure hope not,” he said. “It would be pretty rude of him not to tell us, if he were. 

\--------------------------------------

 **Nott TB:** I think hes reading fortunes now, or something?

\--------------------------------------

Molly scooped the coins up into a box by his knee and beamed at the young woman getting up from his mat.

“Thank you _so_ much again, dear,” his words dripped like honey. “I will never forget your patronage, and may the spirits guide you to happiness.”

As she left, expression torn between gleeful and disbelieving, Molly leaned back to wait for the next customer. He began, as he always did, idly shuffling his cards, watching gold foil catch the slowly-setting sun before fading back between his fingers. Their corners were chipped and worn, softened by touch, like the smile of a dear old friend.

He glanced around the square thoughtfully as he worked. Foot traffic was winding down now, and some of the larger shops were beginning to switch on their evening lights. Maybe he should start packing up; local law enforcement wasn’t the biggest fan of buskers, even less friendly after dark. He could go home now, swing by Caduceus’s shop on the way for some tea, maybe grab a pastry while he was at—

His gaze froze on a shock of ginger hair weaving through the thinning crowds. Its movements were quick, erratic, but even at this distance, Molly knew exactly who it belonged to.

As Caleb reached the edge of his carpet, he put on a grin and added a twinkle to his eye.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite wizard? Here for a—er…dear? What’s wrong?”

Caleb’s face was flushed and sweaty. His eyes were closed, his breath heaved, and he held up a finger to signal to Molly that he was going to need a moment.

Eventually, he managed to regain control of his lungs. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a crumpled, twice-folded, faded yellow page.

“Nott said…” he panted, “Nott said I would find…you here. Read…read this.”

He shoved the page into Molly’s hands.

Mystified, Molly glanced down. He traced a finger slowly beneath the words.

“Do you love your…empire, do you love to…what?”

“Keep,” Caleb huffed, “keep reading.”

“But what’s the…oh, _fuck_.”

Molly’s head shot up. “But this is…the _danger_ is…this is the Victory Pit, dear, that’s…why are you showing me this?”

Caleb inhaled deeply. His breath evened out.

“ _Because,_ Mister Mollymauk,” and now the corners of his mouth were curling into a faint but determined grin, “because you need the Moondrop. The Moondrop needs the money. And we…we…”

He leaned forward, jabbed a finger to the bottom of the page.

“We only need three more people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! I hope you enjoyed this very special mid-week update! The semester's over for me now, and will be for a bit, and though I still have real-life responsibilities, fingers crossed this fic can take the spotlight for a bit! I'm actually going to do my best to update every 4/5 days now, because I'm trying to hit a very specific schedule for a very specific ~special~ update ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> As always, of course, thank you so so so so much for reading!! Seriously, I never could have guessed the reception I'd get on this fic, and the incredible outpour of support and readership and love that you guys have shown me is unbelievable. I'm really honored to be part of this community, and to have met so many incredible people through critrole. I've (hopefully) become a much better writer, and a much better person, and made so many new friends! I love you guys so SO much, and just one more time, from the bottom of my heart: 
> 
> thank you <3


	22. It's Been Too Long (It's Still Too Early)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Shower Scenes, the Mighty Nein Reunion Tour, Character Development, Jay Destroys herself formatting text conversations, Bonding Time, Nugget Sports, The Worst Food Imaginable, Tusk Love III, The Night before the night before the last day of the year, one final message, New Dawn Begins

Beau ran her fingers down the length of her hair, then massaged shampoo into the shaven sides of her undercut. The shower’s spray ran hot across her shoulders, and steam curled in close against her skin. She was humming under her breath, to an upbeat song she couldn’t quite place at the moment, testing the acoustics of the bathroom walls. Water drummed against the tiles below her feet, hitting a rhythm in her soul, and all was peaceful tonight in—

The curtain flew open, a voice yelled, “ _Beauregard_!”

“AGHHHH!!” she screamed, and slashed down with the knife—

Yasha caught her wrist.

There was a moment of bewildered silence.

“Why did you try to stab me?”

Beau desperately struggled to remember how to speak. She managed to shake her head, shut the water off with a free hand, and then looked up and gaped at the woman slowly blinking back at her.

“ _Why the fuck are you in here?!”_

Yasha seemed just as confused as she did, which was not fair. “I had something to tell you that could not wait,” she said. “Why do you have a knife?”

“In case some _maniac_ decides to pull the curtain back and _stab_ me!”

“Is that likely?”

She tugged her wrist free and placed the knife back onto the soap ledge.

“Just tell me why you’re here?” she groaned. “ _Please_?”

Yasha nodded. She held up her phone.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 5:13PM

 **Lavender Thunder:** family meeting, ASAP  
**Lavender Thunder:** me and Cad’s place  
**Lavender Thunder:** we’ve got something important to talk about 

\--------------------------------------

“And, well, it’s a lot to ask,” Molly finished, gesturing one last time with the flyer for emphasis. “We wouldn’t expect any of you to put yourselves on the line like this. But we’ve also been through a lot together, and I couldn’t imagine doing something this insane without asking the rest of you about it first.”

He jumped down from the coffee table and narrowly avoided crashing into Caduceus, who had just handed the last mug of tea to Yasha. They managed to not spill anything, and Molly took a sheepish seat.

Caleb stood next, glancing over the group amassed on the couch and floor-pillows around him. “Like Molly said,” he conceded, “this is a _very_ big request. And we do not require all of you to participate. The Victory Pit is unmistakably dangerous, and the reward is not—”

“I’m in,” said Beau. Her hair was still wet.

Caleb went silent. He opened his mouth, and then he closed it again, and then he simply stared at her.

“It sounds cool,” she shrugged, when he still failed to function. “And I wouldn’t mind the extra cash.”

“It won’t be that much, though,” Molly spoke up, raising a finger. “We’d be entering for the Moondrop, so there’s only going to be about thirty-thousand left over—”

Beau immediately rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, I _was_ listening,” she said. “But you remember that _I_ used to work there too, right? I want it back just as much as you do.”

There was a thoughtful hum from the corner, and all eyes turned to Yasha. They watched her slowly nod. “I want to participate,” she murmured. “I would like the Moondrop back also. And…I have a sword.”

“I also, uh…I wouldn’t be _opposed_ either,” said Fjord, raising a hand of his own. “I mean…there _are_ going to be clerics on hand, right?”

“Yes,” Jester said instantly. “If you all are going to do this, then I’m in too! I’m not letting you fight crazy stuff without a _healer_.”

There was a movement to Molly’s left. Caduceus had begun to stir.

“Two healers,” he said. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t join in, if it’s all right with you all.”

Molly’s eyes went wide as the rest of the group considered this.

“Are you, er…are you a good combatant?” Caleb asked carefully. “We have had a few fights together already, would you be able to handle—”

Caduceus reached into his shirt and produced a small wooden charm, tied off on a leather cord. It vaguely resembled a garland, of sorts, with a shepherd’s stick set in the middle. As he raised it into the air and began murmuring under his breath, the group watched as the entire kitchen was swallowed by a brilliant light that washed into the living room and framed the furniture with burning radiance. When the glow faded, it left behind a strange cloud of peculiar beetle-shaped creatures, milling about the space. One of them bumped into the fridge. It vaguely resembled a pixie, but with insect wings.

“These will eat your eyes and strip your flesh from your body, if they aren’t your friends,” Caduceus said, with all the tranquility in the world. “I can help.”

Fjord and Caleb’s faces instantly shut down. Yasha looked mildly impressed, and Jester started clapping her hands in delight.

“Spirit guardians!” she laughed. “I know that spell!”

“It hurts?” Beau asked.

“Yes,” said both clerics, at exactly the same time.

A huge smile had formed across Molly’s face. “We can kill ‘em with style too, eh?”

“That’s the idea,” Caduceus nodded pleasantly.

And then, almost as one, the group turned around and looked at Nott.

At some point in the conversation, she had set her teacup aside. She was now holding a large, slightly-rusted silver flask, which she took a long, long, _long_ drag from, before pausing to raise an eyebrow at all her friends.

“What?” she said.

“Are you in?” Molly asked.

She rolled her eyes, and kept them waiting with another swig. Then she wiped at the corner of her mouth with a fist. “Of course I’m in,” she huffed. “What kind of question is that?”

Caleb reached over to pull her in for a hug. Molly stared at the faces of his friends amassed around him, and felt a small piece of his soul starting to hum.

“You all…you all are _really_ willing to do this?” he asked.

“Of course,” said Yasha, with no hesitation. “That is not even a question.”

“You’d do the same for us, wouldn’t you?” Jester grinned.

“You’ve _already_ done the same for me,” Fjord pointed out. “Remember the Shusters?”

Molly nodded. The humming in his heart was getting louder.

“And besides,” Caduceus added, “this seems like a good way to learn more about the city.”

Beau cracked her knuckles. “It seems like the _perfect_ way to show this city who’s _boss_.”

Molly glanced back at Caleb and Nott, sitting on the sofa across from him.

“This was technically my idea,” Caleb shrugged. “I am just as surprised as you are.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Nott said, rolling her eyes. “There’s no way I’m letting any of you go in there alone.”

Molly shot up to his feet. Now the sensation was more like a song, racing through his muscles, sprinting through his bones, electric in its ferocity and vigor. He thrust his arms up into the air, leapt back up onto the coffee table, and punched a triumphant fist to the sky.

“Then it’s settled!” he shouted, beaming huge into the grins of his friends, his family. “It’s settled! We’re going to do this! In three days, we’re going to fight!”

“We are going to _win,_ ” Caleb corrected resolutely. “All of us, together, we cannot do anything _but_ win.”

“I don’t even know what we’re fighting,” Beau smirked, raising her mug into the air. “But seriously, I can’t fuckin’ _wait_ to do this.”

“She said it best, folks!” Molly laughed, taking a bow and reaching for his own drink. He hefted it up, and the others quickly followed his lead for an impromptu, tea-filled huzzah.

“Let’s do this!” he cheered. “All of us, together, let’s fucking do this!"

\--------------------------------------

Just as everyone was leaving, Molly reached out and caught the edge of Caleb’s shoulder. The other man jolted briefly with surprise, but his expression softened when he turned and saw who it was.

“Ah,” he said, a slight tilt to his head. “Er… _hallo_?”

“Hello yourself,” Molly snorted. Through the door beyond, he could see the others descending down the stairwell. Nott was waiting patiently at the mouth of the hallway, craning her neck for a better view. Molly stuck his tongue out at her, and she responded with gusto.

“Is everything alright?” Caleb asked, and his attention snapped away from the rudely-gesturing goblin. “Is your tongue…good?”

Molly nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, it’s fine, dear. I just wanted to, er,” he hesitated, “to…say something, before you left.”

“Oh,” Caleb blinked. “Sure?”

Molly opened his mouth to speak. And then suddenly, all he could feel was his lungs breathing ash, all he could hear was his heart burning in his chest, but he forced himself to look up, to meet those steady, clear-blue eyes, and he remembered again that night they had shared, up on the balcony, under the stars, the snow twirling down around them and the gleaming city lights below—

“Thank you,” he said.

There was a pause. Then:

“Thank you?” Caleb echoed. “For…for what, Mister Mollymauk?”

There was that nickname again. Molly felt a knot deep inside him uncurl.

“For everything,” he said, bowing his head. “For…coming to meet me. For listening to me talk. For joining me at the café, and helping me through loss, and sharing your stories, and…well…for being my friend, Mister Caleb.” He cracked a faint smile. “Just…thank you. I—we both have people that I love very dearly. That, especially after today, I know for certain I would do anything for. But I really must admit, in all my years, I’ve never had anyone quite like you.”

Caleb’s eyes had grown wide. There was a faint dusting on his cheeks. And though he was silhouetted by the darkness of the dim hallway behind them, right now, he stood in the light of Molly’s home, hugged by the warmth of a radiator and facing a smile that, for him, had never failed to sing bright.

He felt the corners of his lips curl into a smile. He took a step forward, and felt Molly’s breath graze his cheek.

He put a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Do not thank me,” he murmured. “I should be the one thanking _you_.”

Molly’s voice was a whisper in the eaves.

“What? What for?”

He glanced up. Their eyes met.

“For everything.”

\--------------------------------------

Nott reached for his hand as he approached the top of the stairs but instead, grinning hugely, he swung her up onto his shoulders.

“What’s gotten into you?” she giggled as she fought for balance in the air. “Why are you so happy?”

She couldn’t see his smile, but joy was laced in every syllable of the sentence Caleb said next:

“Because,” he laughed, “because for the first time in a long time, I think maybe that I am becoming a good person!”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 8:19PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** oh man oh man oh man you guys!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** we need a team name!  
**NottSoBrave:** the super squad  
**NottSoBrave:** the battle gang  
**Drunkmonk:** the shits  
**Seaman:** wait im confused  
**Seaman:** don’t we already have one??  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** OH you’re RIGHT!!!  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** we do??  
**Lavender Thunder:** you weren’t with us yet, dear  
**Lavender Thunder:** but don’t worry, we’re delighted to have you  
**NottSoBrave:** WELCOME TO THE MIGHTY NEIN  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** <3 

\-------------------------------------- 

Beau’s hair had fully dried by the time they got home, so there was no hesitation as she threw herself onto the couch and buried her head against some pillows.

“I’m fuckin’ exhausted,” she said, voice faintly muffled. “It’s been a _day_.”

There was a slow weight, as something sank into the cushion next to her.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room?” Yasha asked.

She paused. She dug into her pockets, and started looking for loose change.

Yasha’s confused frown was almost audible. “What are you doing?”

Beau retrieved some quarters, a handful of chewing gum.

“It’s five bucks, right?” she asked. “I think I have money in my room, if—”

She felt two arms, stronger than she ever could have imagined, lift her into the air.

“Free of charge,” Yasha said, though she refused to meet Beau’s eye. “Or,” she added, “you can pay me back in jerky.”

\--------------------------------------

“You know,” said Nott as she finished unwrapping her bandages for the evening, “at this point, we might actually have nine members.”

Caleb glanced out of the bathroom, toothpaste running down his chin. “ _Was_?” he called. “What is your meaning?”

“Our team,” she said, raising her hands. “There’s you and me, that’s two. Then Jester, Beau, Yasha, they make five, Fjord and Molly are six and seven, then Caduceus is eight, and…oh. I’ve run out of fingers."

“Use your Mage Hand,” Caleb suggested. “Then we can be the Mighty _Fünfzehn_. Though that really does not have the same ring." 

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 8:42PM

 **(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** do we need group t-shirts  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** YES  
**Drunkmonk:** NO 

\--------------------------------------

“But, Jester, it _would_ look _really_ cute on him,” said Fjord, that next morning, as he leaned across their breakfast table and gestured at his laptop screen. “Besides, don’t you love putting animals into tiny clothes?”

“I do,” she admitted, “but that sweater is _really_ ugly. Like… _really_ ugly. And I don’t like the colors.”

“But that’s the colors of the Bluejackets!” he protested, waving his fork around. A piece of egg went flying into the distance. “Nugget has to represent Port Damali, otherwise what’s the point of having a dog?”

“Fjord!” she scolded, “that’s not nice! We’re getting a puppy because they’re just wonderful.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he mumbled, “but the perks is that you can make them rep your sports teams! Come on, don’t you want people to know who Nugget’s ma and pa are rootin’ for?”

Jester stole a piece of his bacon, munched on it introspectively for a few moments.

“Okay,” she said eventually, and gave him a nod. “Okay. But on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“We _also_ have to get a Shellbacks doggie sweater.”

“Shellbacks?” Fjord raised an eyebrow. “Why in the gods’ name would we do that?”

She grinned, and stole another piece of bacon. “Because, silly! We have to represent _both_ of us. Nugget’s mama is from _Nicodranas_ , and if you’re buying him an ugly sweater for _your_ dumb team, then you _bet_ I’m buying one for mine!”

\--------------------------------------

Beau’s eyes shot open. She ran out into the kitchen just in time to see Yasha fetch a carton of cereal from the highest cabinet.

“Oh,” she said, turning and noticing the half-awake sleep monster that was her roommate, “you are up—”

Beau shook her head, lifted her hands urgently. “What kind of jerky?” she demanded.

Yasha blinked.

“Excuse me?”

Beau tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m going grocery shopping. What kind of jerky do you like?" 

\--------------------------------------

Molly whistled approvingly as Caduceus finished his demonstration. “That’s brilliant!” he laughed. “And you’re saying you got it for _free_?”

Caduceus drew the strings of the little green pouch shut, and beamed. “Sure did,” he said. “The enchanter I went to said it was a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ present, though I’m not entirely sure that’s accurate.”

Molly leaned across the kitchen counter. “You think he’s going to come calling in a debt, later on?”

“No, no,” Caduceus shook his head, “no, nothing like that. It was just…I could tell he has some sort of ulterior motive. But…I didn’t get a bad read on him. It was, um…nice.”

Molly’s eyes instantly lit up. A smile crawled across his face.

“It was _nice_ , eh?” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “How else did it make you feel?”

Caduceus’s gaze fixed onto the ground, but a faint grin betrayed his answer.

“I’m not sure. How would _you_ call it, when your chest starts to jump?”

Molly threw a fist into the air and started clapping up a storm.

“You _have_ to go back and see him!” he shouted over his own applause. “Whatever you do, do _not_ let your wizard get away!”

\--------------------------------------

“We should really wait until we know what _kind_ of dog he is, before we buy him a bed,” said Fjord, leaning against the handle of their shopping cart. “I know we settled on getting a large one, but there’s lots of _kinds_ of big dogs, Jes.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “But we should get him the biggest bed there is, so he can have all the space in the world.”

Fjord considered the layers upon layers of dog-food bags, toys, collars, leashes, sweaters, and two fur-brushes already stacked up in their cart like the strata of a canyon. He thought about their budget.

“Okay,” he said weakly, “but _maybe_ we could ease up, a bit? Our car isn’t that big, and we haven’t even hit the party store or the supermarket or the toy store yet.”

Jester pouted, and begrudgingly started searching for items to re-shelve. “Okay, okay,” she said, sighing melodramatically, “but just so you know, Oskar, after we get Nugget, I’m coming back here myself and I’m getting him every single thing that you make me put back.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 4:17PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** are we meting for movies tonight?!  
**Lavender Thunder:** I’m absolutely down!  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says he’s off the rest of the week for the holidays  
**NottSoBrave:** so yes!!!  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** I’m also free  
**Babebarian:** I as well  
**Drunkmonk:** me and yasha can host, we haven’t done it in a while

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 4:33PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** yayyyy thank you!!!  
**NottSoBrave:** im so excited  
**Lavender Thunder:** what are we watching?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** welllllllllll  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** because the honey heist 1 DVD is mysteriously missing  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** and nobody should be blamed for where it went  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** because sometimes things just happen  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “I can’t believe they lost it”  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “I had to spend an hour trying to find a replacement online”  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “it still wont ship for another 2 weeks  
**Drunkmonk:** tell caleb to fuck right off  
**NottSoBrave:** caleb says “I’ll make a note of it”  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** ANYWAYS  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** BECAUSE OF THAT  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** and because Caduceus, we can’t watch HH2 because you haven’t seen 1  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** I have no idea what’s going on  
**Lavender Thunder:** I’ll fill you in later  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** everyone shut up  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** BECAUSE of that!!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** aaannnnnd because Caduceus hasn’t seen a certain OTHER movie yet…  
**Drunkmonk:** NO  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** WE HAVE TO WATCH TUSK LOVE  
**Lavender Thunder:** oh, HELL YES  
**NottSoBrave:** can I be guinevere this time  
**NottSoBrave:** I think I have her lines memorized  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** HECK yeah!!!!  
**Lavender Thunder:** I’ll take one for the team and be oskar  
**NottSoBrave:** what’s THAT supposed to mean  
**Lavender Thunder:** absolutely nothing  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** you all seem really excited what’s happening  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** the greatest greatest movie in the WORLD is happening!  
**Seaman:** hey beau  
**Seaman:** you’ve been real quiet are you good?  
**Babebarian:** beauregard wants me to tell you that she’s thrown herself off the balcony  
**Babebarian:** that is not true of course  
**Babebarian:** but that is the message she wanted me to convey  
**Drunkmonk:** yasha it doesn’t work when you do it like that  
**Babebarian:** sorry  
**Babebarian:** are you still outside  
**Drunkmonk:** yeah  
**Drunkmonk:** uhhhh 

\--------------------------------------

Today | 4:49PM

 **Beauregard:** hey yasha  
**Yasha:** yes?  
**Beauregard:** handle’s jammed 

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, _man_!” Jester grinned, leaning back against Fjord’s arms, “it’s been _forever_ since I’ve been back here!” She took a deep breath, and her smile went even wider. “Gods, it still _smells_ the same, too!”

“And how’s that?” Nott asked. She was perched up on the back of the sofa with a bowl of popcorn in hand. “Like people who work out too much?”

Beau threw a pepperoni slice at her, which she caught and ate.

“No!” Jester giggled. “It smells like…tropical medley air freshener. And a hint of Marquesian takeout.”

“Garden of Marquet is fuckin’ good, alright?” Beau said defensively. “And I don’t like cooking.”

“I do,” Yasha volunteered. “We should try it sometime.”

“Will it involve killing a whole pig and eatin’ it in the living room?” Fjord asked hesitantly. “Because if that’s the case, I think you might have to take it outside.”

“I told you,” Yasha sighed, “it was not a boar.”

“Either way, it seems a little dangerous,” Caduceus remarked. “Are you sure that’s allowed?”

The answer was cut off as Molly emerged from the kitchen, having finally wrestled open the bottles of wine. There was one in each hand, and a third balancing on his head, and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Delivery!” He wove his way through his friends and plopped down onto the couch. “Nott, if you would be so kind as to take this down?”

He leaned over, and she grabbed the bottle instantly. Not a single dropped spilled, and she lifted it up into the air and examined the bottom suspiciously.

“How did you do that?” she demanded. “How come it didn’t fall?”

Molly handed a bottle to Yasha, offered the other to Caleb. “I’m a performer,” he said cheekily. “I don’t spill my drinks— _or_ my secrets—so easily.”

“It’s true,” Jester giggled, waving around her glass of milk, “I’ve been trying to get him to teach that to me for _ages_.”

Molly winked, then pretended to turn a lock at the corner of his mouth. He threw away the key, and Beau mimed catching it, to which he stuck up his middle finger 

“It’s my house,” she shot back, “I’ll kick you out for that.”

“Now, come on, come on!” Jester said, focusing their attention towards the TV. “No more fighting! We’re here to watch _Tusk Love_ , aren’t we?”

Yasha stood, walked over to the TV to put the DVD in. As the others watched her work in the dim lighting, Molly felt a tap on his shoulder, turned and broke into a grin as Caleb handed him a ceramic mug full of red wine.

“ _Verzeihung_ ,” he murmured, though there was a chuckle in his apology, “I could not find anything nicer.”

Molly accepted the offering with a laugh. “No worries! We’re not here to be fancy, dear. And I must say, it’s much easier holding this than a regular glass.”

Caleb smiled back and raised his own drink. It was in a red mug, with a picture of a kitten on it. The cat did not look pleased with this arrangement. “To not being fancy,” he agreed, clinking the edge against Molly’s. “To things being easy.”

Molly chuckled after they both took a sip. “I don’t know if things have ever been easy,” he quipped, “but I must say, whatever this is, I think I might prefer it.”

In front of them, the TV flickered to life. Yasha handed the remote to Jester, as was her sovereign right, and the tiefling began fast-forwarding through the advertisements with the ease of a skilled practitioner. 

Caleb watched Yasha ease back onto the couch, watched Beau lean against her shoulder, watched Fjord say something to make Caduceus laugh, watched Jester clap her hands excitedly as the opening sequence started, felt a clawed hand reach down as Nott passed him a fistful of slightly-crushed popcorn.

He accepted it, and she winked at him before turning back to the TV.

He offered some of the popcorn to Molly. “I think you are right,” he murmured softly. “I think I may prefer this too.”

Their shoulders, as always on these crowded nights, were pressed together in the darkness.

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:09PM

 **(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** Jester, id just like to thank you again  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** I think that movie taught me a lot  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** theres a whole world out there that I didn’t know a thing about  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** and now i almost feel like an expert  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** we should go visit Druvenlode one day 

There was a sudden coughing fit through the wall separating their bedrooms, and Caduceus glanced up in alarm.

“Molly?” he called. “Molly, are you alright?”

There were a few more seconds of pained choking, and then a thump against the plaster. “Just fine!” his roommate called back. “Just…just fine, dear. And, er, just checking, did you have an opinion on the…more raunchy parts of the film?”

Caduceus shrugged, then remembered Molly couldn’t see him. “Not really,” he admitted out loud. “I closed my eyes when that stuff started happening. It felt a little rude to watch.”

There was a long, long pause.

And then Molly’s voice again, slightly strained, mostly amused:

“You know, I probably should have expected that.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 10:33PM

 **Seaman:** god I wish the rest of ya’ll were more like cad

\--------------------------------------

Now it was late at night, verging on early morning, in the Widogast-Brave household. Not that something as petty as time would stop the current residents of this apartment, since they were either a) cats, b) goblins, or c) already sleep-deprived with nothing left to lose. Currently, the lamp was still on. Nobody was in bed.

“Can you pass me the tape?” Nott asked.

“ _Was_?” Caleb glanced up briefly, saw the roll lying to his left and handed it over. “Oh, _ja._ Here you are.”

Nott accepted it wordlessly, then paused in her own wrapping efforts to take a closer look at what Caleb was doing. He sat a few feet away from her on their carpeted floor, wearing his pajamas, pouring over his spell book with Frumpkin at his side. There was a sheet of cardboard on the ground in front of him, sporting an enormous circle composed of strange archaic runes and curling designs. At the center of the glyphs was a series of small glass jars, all filled to the brim with black paint. There was a faint smell emanating from the tableau, something like a mixture of campfire smoke and citrus aftershave.

It wasn’t bad, technically. But at the same time, it was pretty bad.

“What is that?” she asked, tilting her head in curiosity. “Is it magic?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb murmured, half-distracted. “Or, at least, I am hoping it will be.”

“Hoping?” she echoed. “Why hoping?”

He scratched at his chin and traced a finger along a line of text in his book. “I am trying to make my Wichteln gift,” he said slowly. “I think I have finally figured it out.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He stared at the pots. “The paint,” he said eventually. “I am almost certain it will not explode, now.”

Nott considered the tiny jars. Then she looked over, and caught Frumpkin’s eye.

“You’re lucky,” she sighed to the purring cat. “If it _does_ blow up, at least you’ll make it out alive.”

\--------------------------------------

When Molly stepped out of his room that morning, bathrobe tied loosely across his waist, it was just in time to see Caduceus heft an unreasonably enormous Tupperware container up onto their kitchen counter. He turned and wiped his brow afterwards, then grinned when he noticed Molly approaching.  

“Nice to see you’re awake,” he said amiably. “Would you like to help me wrap these?”

“These?” Molly leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “What exactly are ‘these’?”

“These!” Caduceus chuckled, throwing open the plastic lid to reveal…to reveal…

…presumably what was primitive man’s first unsuccessful attempt to invent the wheel. This massive container was crammed with dozens of strange cylinders, ruddy brown in color, possibly made of mud or clay, with odd multicolored rocks set into their surfaces. Their sides were porous, and might have been burned, though Molly truly could not tell. He glanced up at Caduceus, only saw a proud smile, and went for broke.

“It’s…a food?”

“It’s fruitcake!” Caduceus beamed. “It’s the most important dessert of the season.”

Molly watched him pull one of the wheels out. It squeaked as it left the container. He took an involuntary step back.

“You want me to help you…wrap these?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Caduceus agreed. “I would really hate to impose.”

Molly quickly shook his head. “No, no, dear. I just…er…I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”

“Really?” Caduceus asked, and he had the audacity to sound incredulous. “Never at all?”

Molly shrugged. “I don’t know that many holiday traditions,” he said, and took a seat on one of their bar stools. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Caduceus’s smile returned at full force. “I’d be happy to! Here, let me find some ribbon, and then I’ll share you the secret recipe. We make them every year as a family, you know.”

“Why were they in a box, then?” Molly asked with morbid curiosity. “Doesn’t cake usually come out of the oven, hot and fresh?”

Caduceus shook his head with the air of a master imparting wisdom on his pupil. “Not fruitcake,” he said. “Fruitcake is special. You have to age this for at _least_ eight weeks before eating it.”

Molly blinked.

“This has been in a box for _two months_?”

“Usually I try to do longer,” Caduceus sighed, “but with the move, I just didn’t have time.”

Molly leaned forward. “You make these a lot, then?”

“Absolutely. Every year! We hand them out to people who come to visit us during the holiday season.”

Molly brought a tentative fingernail towards one of the cakes, rapped once against the surface. It was like a brick.

He looked up at his roommate.

“You give these to the living customers?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He prodded the cake again.

“And you said the cemetery was _struggling_?”

\--------------------------------------

Beau was jolted awake by a horrific noise screeching through their apartment just an hour before noon. She threw herself out of bed, nearly smacked into the door, wrestled the handle open and flew down the hallway to come face-to-face with the intensely peculiar sight of Yasha kneeling in front of the coffee table in the living room, very carefully sharpening a greatsword.  

A couple sparks flew across the blade. The whetstone she was using was shaped like a duck.

Beau pinched the bridge of her nose. She leaned against the wall.

Yasha, at least, had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry,” she said softly, setting duck and sword alike down onto the tabletop. “Was I being too loud?”

Beau sighed. She threw her hands up into the air.

“Did you get _that_ thing on Craigslist too?”

\--------------------------------------

Jester giggled as she watched Fjord carefully climb atop a wooden chair to hang streamers above their television. He had a roll of tape wedged between his teeth, streaks of silver and gold dangled from his fists.

“Do you need any help?” she called, amusement in her tone. “I can hold something for you, you know.”

He spat the tape out into the crook of his elbow and shook his head. “I got it, I got it,” he said. “But would you mind texting the group chat? We still need to figure out who’s bringing what snacks."

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 1:09PM

 **NottSoBrave:** caleb and I are at the store right now, we can get chips!  
**NottSoBrave:** so many chips  
**Drunkmonk:** we still have a ton of cheese puffs and those weird veggie straw things from movie night  
**Drunkmonk:** and also beer  
**Drunkmonk:** so many beers  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** ewwww beau!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** it’s the new year!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** it should be champagne  
**Lavender Thunder:** I absolutely got champagne  
**Lavender Thunder:** and an assortment of cheeses, don’t ask where from  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** I also have plenty of fruitcake, if anyone would like me to bring it 

\--------------------------------------

Mollymauk Tealeaf created a new group chat  
_6 Members: Beauregard, Fjord, Jester, Mollymauk, Nott and Yasha_

Today | 1:13PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** say no  
**Molly Tealeaf:** save yourselves

\--------------------------------------

 **Drunkmonk:** maybe next time

\--------------------------------------

Beau put her phone back down onto the carpet next to her and went back to polishing her staff. Across the table, sitting on the floor, Yasha had moved on to oiling the leather hilt of her sword.

They worked in relative silence, but for a moment, Beau could have sworn that under her breath, on the edge of hearing, Yasha was humming the very same song that _she_ had been singing in the shower just a few days before.

\--------------------------------------

Fjord hopped off the chair, took a step back to admire his handiwork. In the warm glow of the afternoon sun, the ribbons and streamers and wreaths and tinsel, filling their living room to the brim, glimmered like a rainbow bright in the mist. A string of mistletoe hung above the door to their balcony, and Jester had filled almost every available space with confetti and glitter and the kind of cheap party-store decorations that were essential to building a truly festive mood. She had also piled the couches high with pillows and blankets, brought in fresh wood for the fireplace, and had cordoned off the kitchen counter as “Snack Island.” It was now lined with plastic cups and paper plates, just waiting to be filled.

“It’s beautiful,” she hummed happily, and took a step closer to her boyfriend. “It’s…this is going to be the best New Dawn ever.

Fjord felt a dopey smile breaking across his face. He did nothing to prevent it, and reached out to take her hand.

“Yeah,” he murmured, pulling Jester in close. “Yeah, I think that too.”

\--------------------------------------

On the night before the night before the last night of the year, Caleb finished his shower and walked out of the bathroom to find Nott sitting on his bed. His hair was still wet, his face freshly-shaven, his pajamas slightly damp from the humidity. He raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times when he noticed the expression of his little green friend.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, taking a few steps closer. “Nott, are you okay?”

She nodded quickly, eyes wide in the darkness. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, no, I just…um…I just wanted to say something.”

He put his towel down on the dresser. He walked over, and sat next to her on the bed.

“Alright,” he said softly, “sure. What is up?”

Nott twiddled her thumbs. She was staring at the sheets.

“Are you, um…are you _sure_ about this?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure about what?” he asked. “The party?”

She shook her head. “The Victory Pit.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Ah.”

“It’s just…” Nott murmured, “it’s just…gods, it’s _really_ dangerous, Caleb. And I know we’re doing it for a good reason, and I know you said you’ve made up your mind, but I just…I just wanted to make _sure_. Because this isn’t something we should do lightly. It’s…people have _died_ , in this competition.”

He bit his lip. “I know, _spatz_ , I know. But this is something we _have_ to do. Or, at least, that _I_ have to do.”

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue. But then she just sighed, and let her shoulders sag. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Just…be safe, okay?”

Caleb chuckled. “You will be there to protect me, _ja_? I could not imagine anywhere safer to be.”

This won a laugh. And before he could say anything else, Nott had leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

“We don’t really say this much,” she said, pulling back and studying his expression. “But…Caleb?”

“Yes?”

“You’re my best friend in this whole crazy world. I love you.”

There was no hesitation. He nodded his head, and met her smile with his own.

“ _Ich habe dich auch lieb_ ,” he murmured. “I love you too.”

\--------------------------------------

On the night before the night before the last night of the year, Mollymauk Tealeaf paused in his roommate’s doorway, just as he had done earlier that week. Caduceus was still up, reading a book by lamplight, and glanced over as he noticed Molly’s shadow on the floor.

“Hey, there,” he said, closing the cover tilting his head. “What’s up?”

Molly grinned faintly. He leaned against the wall.

“I just wanted to say,” he murmured softly, “I just wanted to say that I have been very lucky to be your roommate.”

Caduceus set the book down on his nightstand. “That’s awful nice of you,” he said softly. “What’s the occasion?”

Molly snorted. “To be honest, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s New Dawn, talking. But…I think it’s safe to say that we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well, these last couple weeks. And I…I’m _glad_ you’re in my life, dear. I was feeling…a bit empty, before you showed up, if I’m being honest. This apartment was lonely until you came along. So…thank you. For, ah…for livening up my home.”

Caduceus chuckled. He shook his head, and reached over to take Molly’s hand.

“Thank _you,_ for sharing your home with me,” he said. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I barely knew anyone in this city. And now, well…I even feel like I’ve found a second family.”

Molly laughed at that. He nodded his head, and his horn charms jingled faintly in the gentle light.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I think I know what you mean.”

\--------------------------------------

On the night before the night before the last night of the year, soft in the starlight of their darkened bedroom, Fjord inched closer and counted every single freckle on Jester’s cheeks. He felt her hand reach for his, and nestled between hearts, their fingers intertwined.

“Hey, Fjord?” she whispered.

“Yeah, Jes?”

“You already know that I love you.”

“Of course, Jes.”

She slid her forehead into the crook of his neck, mindful not to hit him with her horns. Their bodies, this close together, warmed the cool evening air.

“Do you know how _much_ I love you?”

He closed his eyes. “How much is that?”

She pressed her lips to skin, snickered when she felt Fjord chuckle.

“That much,” she giggled. “I love you _that_ much.”

\--------------------------------------

On the night before the night before the last day of the year, Beau saw a single snowflake drift past her window. And then another, and another, and another, until a slow serenade of white blanketed the sky beyond. It was quiet, and it was beautiful, and Beau should have felt at peace. But then there were footsteps in the hallway past her bedroom, heading towards the foyer.

It had been dumb of her to think that _she_ would stay. Stupid to believe that the holidays meant anything. Idiotic, to hope they might have spent the new year together.

She slid out of bed, to get one last goodbye, and then froze when she opened the door.

It was Yasha. She was wearing her pajamas.

“Oh, hey—”

“I, er—”

They both stopped. They both felt smiles creeping across their faces.

“You first,” Beau said, nodding her head. “You, uh…what’s up?”

“I…I…” Yasha sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “I just…it is snowing,” she murmured. “It’s, um, it is pretty.”

“Yeah,” Beau blinked. “No, yeah, it is.”

Yasha held up a blanket. “Would you maybe…would you maybe like to watch it fall, with me? We can bring the couch to the window by the balcony. I can, um…I can make hot chocolate."

Beau’s stomach started to flutter. She had to ask. She just _had_ to.

“I thought you were going to leave,” she muttered. “I thought…it’s a storm…”

Yasha shook her head. Their gazes met, soft in the moonlight.

“I told you I would stay,” she murmured. “I told you I would not go anywhere.”

Beau’s heart swelled in her chest.

“Okay,” she whispered, and smile grew wider. “Okay. Yeah. I’d like that.”

\--------------------------------------

And then, finally, on the night before the night before the last day of the year, Mollymauk Tealeaf sank down into his mattress. Caduceus was long asleep by now, his gentle snoring not quite as bad as Fjord’s, but still enough to rumble through their apartment like fog tiptoeing over a mossy forest floor. This was all well and fine, though, because Molly knew, try as he might, he wouldn’t be sleeping much anyways.

He reached for his nightstand and fetched his phone.

What did he want to say? What was there _left_ to say? He’d already poured his heart out into a world that did not exist, to a man who could not hear him. His soul was bare with truths that he’d never intended to own, truths that he had never been brave enough to share. But Caleb…Caleb had now given him a chance to save one of the most important things he’d had ever had. One of the first things he’d ever loved. All the cost of his own safety. His own sanity. His own _life_.

Molly opened messages app. And then he paused, as he saw what was lying in the little box, still unsent, left over from a few nights ago.

_Mister Caleb. Gods, Mister Caleb. I can’t tell whether I can love you or_

He went still. He thought about this for a long, long time.

He pressed his thumb to the screen.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 12:03AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** a few days ago, I told you that I didn’t understand where we stood  
**Molly Tealeaf:** that I didn’t know if you loved me, and I didn’t know if you should  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I wasn’t sure anymore, of what I was doing  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I felt lost, mister caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was a peacock without my spotlight  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was person who’d lost it all  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but then I think I realized something, in that time  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I _didn’t_ lose it all  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it sucks that I miss my home  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it sucks that my family’s scattered  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it sucks that I felt a bit abandoned  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but at least I still had you all  
**Molly Tealeaf:** at least I still had the mighty nein  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and now, the mighty nein is going to help me get my first home back  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and they’re doing this for me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and they’re doing it because of you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and its still true, that I don’t know if youre doing this because you’re a good person  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I don’t know if youre doing this because youre an amazing friend  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I don’t  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I don’t know if youre doing this because you love me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** if you love me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** maybe you dont  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but I know now, for certain, that whatever’s the case  
**Molly Tealeaf:** a person like that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** a person like YOU  
**Molly Tealeaf:** …  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I can’t help but love you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I love you, Caleb Widogast  
**Molly Tealeaf:** its been too long and it’s still too early  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but I think you deserve to know  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and…I’m going to make sure that you do  
**Molly Tealeaf:** …  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** sleep tight  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and with any luck  
**Molly Tealeaf:** this’ll be the last message I send you 

\--------------------------------------

The final day of the calendar year crested over snow-white clouds as dawn emerged from the horizon and glowed warm over the city.

Jester finished stowing away the last of the Wichteln gifts from her friends, then grabbed her scarf off the rack and practically danced out the door of her apartment.

“Okay, okay, okay!” she announced happily. “We’re ready to go!”

“I still can’t believe you’re making us wait until the party to see your house,” Beau said, rolling her eyes. “That’s so annoying, Jes.”

“I hate to admit it, but I agree with Beau,” Molly grinned. “The suspense will _kill_ me.”

“Not if the Pit kills you first,” Nott said. “Aren’t those your _stage_ swords?”

He wrapped a hand around one of the hilts and shrugged. “They worked just fine the first time. Now come on, come on, we shouldn’t be worrying about those things right now. We’ve got a few hours of celebration to get through first!”

“That’s right!” Jester declared, punching a fist into the air. “It’s time to _partyyyy_!”

“I am quite excited,” Yasha nodded, giving a faint smile to her friends. “I have never been to the New Dawn festival before.”

“I have not either,” Caleb admitted. “I am…looking forward to it.”

“Gods, you two are jumpin’ outta your skin with joy,” chuckled Fjord. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Holiday spirit?” Caduceus volunteered. “I’m pretty excited myself.”

“You should be!” Jester shouted. “It’s New Dawn! And you know what that means?”

“What?” Nott asked. “What does it mean?”

Jester’s eyes glittered as she smiled. “It means it’s time for us to have fun!”

There was a chorus of cheers from her friends, even Yasha joined in and Caleb laughed with the rest.

“And then,” finished Beau, motioning to the bo staff strapped across her back, “and then after _that_ , it’ll be time for us to have the _real_ fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for reading!! This fic is slowly turning into a hallmark christmas movie, and because of that, as I've mentioned before, I'm going to aim for 4/5-day updates so I can hit an ~extra-special update~ at an extra-special time ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I really really hope you guys are enjoying this, and thank you SO much for your support!! Y'all are a huge reason why i've been so motivated to write this story and why I'm having such an AMAZING time doing it, and i appreciate every single one of you wonderful readers so much <333
> 
> As always, of course, Comments and Kudos keep me going!! between updates you can find me on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock) All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!! 
> 
> ( **ALSO!** the amazing [@sameshork](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/) continues to blow my fuckin' socks away with FANTASTIC ART, featuring [last update's caleb-puddle-realization](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/post/181078116975/jester-raised-an-eyebrow-what-is-she-asked) that absolutely destroyed me in the best possible way, please go over and give them some love!!!)
> 
> <333333333333


	23. The New Dawn Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: episodes 17 and the first half of 18, basically, with a special shoutout to critroletranscripts and a fun winter twist. This chapter is 12.6k, so STRAP IN because i've literally never written this many words in one sitting before ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (ALSO! the amazing [@sameshork](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/) once AGAIN did incredible art of last chapter, [of Nott and Caleb's tiny conversation as they're leaving Molly's apartment!!](https://sockablock.tumblr.com/post/181245898100/nott-reached-for-his-hand-as-he-approached-the-top) It's SO CUTE and im not worthy asdhjaska)

“Three, two, one, throw!”

 _Thunk_.

“Fuck!”

Fjord spun around, swinging his fists and kicking the cobblestones below him. “Damn, y’all, this game’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“Are you _sure_ that’s the case, dear?” Molly’s eyes were twinkling with amusement. “Are you sure you’re not just bad at this?”

Fjord glowered at him as he grabbed a second sandbag. “Hey, shut up, I _got_ this.”

“Me and Yasha are ready whenever you want!” Jester volunteered, glee dripping from her words. “I’m sure if you’d just let us throw you, it would definitely go into the basket!”

“I _got_ this, Jes!”

“Ten dollars says he fails,” Nott whispered to Beau.

“No way,” she muttered back. “We all know what’s gonna happen.”

Fjord marched back up to the red tape, carefully eyeing the wicker basket that had so far eluded him. Then he turned around and with a deep breath, he bent his knees, shifted his weight, hunched over and exploded upwards, launching the sandbag into the air with all the force that he could muster.

It caught the sky for but a moment before landing a good five feet short of the ten-foot distance he’d been trying to achieve.

It lay there, motionless and mocking.

“You still have one more chance,” Caleb said as supportively as he could. “They say that the third one is charming, _ja_?”

“Third one’s the charm,” Yasha corrected gently. “I made that mistake once also.”

Fjord grabbed the last bag from the woman running the game and glared icicles at the basket. His face was red from the effort, the cold, and the embarrassment, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

“Remember, Fjord!” Jester giggled. “We can _he-elp_!”

He glanced over his shoulder. He considered his target.

Then he turned around and gave Jester and Yasha a loud, resigned, sigh.

“Alright, alright, _fine._ It’s not like I’ve got anythin’ to lose, right?”

\--------------------------------------

A few minutes later, Fjord picked himself off the ground and dusted the snow from his jacket and the dignity from his breast. Jester and Beau were doubled over, wheezing in the background, as Molly waltzed up to the carnival employee and dropped three dollars into her outstretched hand.

“Let me have a go at this!” he beamed. “I’ll do much better than my friend.”

“That ain’t hard!” Beau gasped between laughs. “Gods, Fjord, that was…amazing.”

“Yeah, thanks, I sure thought so too.”

“I will do _much_ better!” Molly vowed with a flourish. “Esteemed audience members, witness as I conquer this child’s game where no man before me has done so far!” He threw his friends another smile, and then hesitated when he noticed that a handful were missing.

“Hey, where’d the rest go?” he asked, gesturing to the group. “They’re going to miss my victory!”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb, and Nott who was riding on his shoulders, watched with amazement as the carnival employee lifted the center cup to reveal Caduceus’s ten-dollar bill lying underneath. Her eyes were wide with shock, but she still managed to smile somewhat-politely at the giant firbolg in front of her, and hand him another twenty-dollar bill.

“You’ve got quite a sharp eye,” she said, half-amiably and half-not. “It’s uncanny.”

Caduceus responded with his signature unreadable grin and delicately accepted his prize. “Thank you,” he said. “I pay attention.”

 _“Ja_ ,” Caleb nodded. “You paid attention quite well. That first time, and then the time after that, and then after that, and then after that—"

“I want to play!” Nott interrupted, thrusting a hand forward and driving her steed—Caleb—closer on towards the game. “Let me down, I want a crack at this!”

She spilled off his shoulders and ran up to the King’s Vault, yanking a five out of her pocket as she went. The half-elven employee immediately beamed at her, thrilled to finally have a different customer. And as she explained the rules and started setting up for another round, Caleb leaned over towards Caduceus and produced a thin copper wire from his jacket.

“Can you keep an eye on the cups for me?” he asked. “Let me know which is the correct one?”

Caduceus raised an eyebrow. “What for?” he asked. “Isn’t it Nott’s turn?”

Caleb bent the metal around his finger, winked to the firbolg standing next to him. “ _Ja_ , definitely,” he agreed, “but we are also her friends. And it is always good for friends to help."

\--------------------------------------

“Ha- _ha_!” Molly cheered, practically jumping off the ground. “First try, did you see that?! Fjord, did you see that? I’m amazing!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the half-orc grumbled, crossing his arms against his chest. “That was pretty good, I’ll give you that.”

“It was _amazing_!” Jester gushed. “Molly, you’re so strong!”

“Almost as strong as me,” Yasha nodded. “Well done.”

He beamed, cheeks flushed from the excitement and the cold, and turned towards the carnival employee. “What did I win?” he asked. “What’s my prize? Other than the look on Fjord’s face, of course.”

\-------------------------------------

“The left one,” Caduceus whispered into the air.

“The left one,” Caleb murmured into his wire.

“The left one!” Nott declared, slamming her palm down onto the table. “The left one! It’s absolutely the left one.”

\-------------------------------------

Jester scooped a triumphant Nott up onto her shoulders and cocked her head at Caleb and Caduceus. “Where did you guys wander off to?” she asked. “We looked away for just a second and you were gone!”

“ _Verzeihung,_ ” though Caleb wore a faint grin behind his scarf, “we saw a fun game, we wanted to take a look. And we were tired to watching Fjord fail.”

“Gods, you fuck up just _one_ time—”

“Actually, it was _three_ times,” Beau corrected.

“How was the Trebuchet?” Caduceus asked, turning to the others. “Did the rest of you win anything?”

Molly gleefully produced a plushie about the size of his head, shaped like a strawberry with two embroidered eyes. He waved it around for everyone to see and laughed, “I did, I did!” He held it up to Caleb’s hair. “Look at that, dear, it matches.”

“That is nice,” Caleb chuckled. “Where are we going next?”

Jester ran forward a few steps into the crowd, gestured at the brilliant holiday panorama around them. At this point in the chilled mid-morning, the Pentamarket was filled to the brim with all manner of people and families walking around in vibrant parkas and bright hats. Large banners of silk, sporting festive wintertime colors, were placed up on the streets in full display. Strings of lights wound around trees and awnings, their unlit glass bulbs glinting in the sun. The smells of spices and cookies and hot chocolate, then mince pies and roasting chestnuts, billowed up from the various food carts. Small bands of bards and musicians marked nearly every street corner, filling the air with music, poems, and cheer, that mingled with the chuckles of children and conversations and laughter burbling through crowds and caressing the square like a soft and gentle blanket.  

Jester punched a fist into the air. “We can go anywhere!” she declared. “Come on, come on, we can do _anything_!”

\-------------------------------------

“Are you sure you can handle this?”

Beau gave the mead vendor a withering glare and leaned forward against his counter. “Can I _handle_ it?” she repeated mockingly. “Fuck you, hand it over.”

He raised a defensive hand and quickly backed up. “Sorry, miss, sorry, I’m just warnin’ you. It’s a bit early in the day for drinking.”

“It’s not,” said Nott, now on Caduceus’s shoulders. “It’s never too early for that.”

He ignored this, and began to examine the enormous barrels stacked up behind him. “What kind of drink are you looking for?” he called over his shoulder. “I’ve got mead that tastes good, mead that’ll fuck you up, and mead that’s a little bit of both.”

“I want get fucked up,” said Beau. “Does it taste like piss?”

“Yeah, but it’ll do the job.”

“Alright, hit me.”

Molly waltzed up to the counter as the man filled her mug. “I want one too,” he announced cheerfully. “One of whatever’s most expensive.”

After handing over the money and returning to his friends, Molly took a sip of his newly-acquired prize. It was _strong_ , that was certain, but after the initial weird, sour, vinegary impact, the sweetness afterward settled well into his stomach. He proffered the cup to the rest of the gang.

“I might pass for now,” Fjord said weakly. “We’re supposed to be _fighting_ later, aren’t we?”

“It’s courage,” Beau shrugged. “Liquid courage.”

Caduceus raised a hand and reached over for Molly’s mug. “I’ll try some,” he said. “I’ve never had anything like— _yeurk_.”

His friends laughed as he wiped at the corner of his mouth and quickly handed it back.

“That’s…special,” he said eventually. “People drink it willingly?”

“To excess,” Caleb nodded. “Welcome to city living.”

\-------------------------------------

They meandered through the streets a few minutes more after that, searching for their next game to conquer—or, in Fjord’s case, to not conquer. They eventually came across an elevated platform jutting out through the crowd, featuring a stand called “Titan’s Grasp” that was manned by four soldiers in crimson-and-silver chainmail. They stood next to a large, cubed stone that had a metal bar wedged underneath it, with a fulcrum positioned about two feet down. One of the soldiers was holding a large hammer, and as the group approached, they saw a man march up the stairs, take his parka off, spit into his hands, flex his muscles, and grab it. He immediately swung it around, narrowly decapitating some of the Empire’s finest, and smashed the head down against the empty side of the lever.

The crowd erupted into cheers as…as…as the stone barely shifted. But the competitor instantly threw the hammer back into the grasp of the soldier and pumped his arms up high over the crowd. “I moved it!” he shouted, to uproarious applause. “Look at that, I moved it!”

The Mighty Nein approached. “They’re celebrating anything these days, huh?” Fjord smirked.

“Yasha, Yasha,” Jester tugged on her coat, “Yasha, we _have_ to go play.”

“We should,” she nodded slowly, “but I was also looking forward to finding some ridiculous meats. I thought that was what we were going to do at the mead-stand.”

“Well, you know, meat isn’t bad either,” said Beau, taking a swig from her tankard. “The day’s young, we can go there next.”

Yasha considered this for a moment. Then she shrugged, took her jacket off and handed it to Molly, unslung her sword and handed that over too. “Okay,” she said. “Yes, let us play this game.”

“Not play,” Fjord grinned, elbowing her in the shoulder. “ _Crush_.”

They waved down one of the soldiers on the platform, who quickly put on a grin and called back, “Hey! Hey, want to try the Titan’s Grasp?”

“We do,” Yasha nodded. “That is why we are here.”

“Right, well, it’s five dollars to enter,” the soldier said, nodding his head to a big sack by one of his compatriot’s feet. “You can take a single swing, and the winner gets the current pot, which is, er…”

“Nearly seventy dollars,” called another guard. “Nobody’s gotten it yet, this morning.”

“I’m going to wait for Yasha to do it first,” Jester piped up from the back. “I have a feeling she’s going to win.”

“Ha! Good on you,” the guard said cheerfully, watching Yasha climb onto the platform and handing her the hammer. “It’s always nice to have friends that are confident in your—”

The air around him blurred as Yasha threw the hammer over her head, let out a mighty, furious scream, thrust her shoulders out and just _slammed_ into the lever with the head of her weapon. The boulder on the other end instantly tumbled off the bar, thudding to a halt a good foot away from them all, trembling with the aftershocks that shivered through the air.

Yasha turned around. She gave the hammer back.

“Is that all?” she asked.

There was a brief pause. And then one of the guards slowly, wordlessly, reached for the prize sack and without taking his eyes off Yasha, handed it over.

She accepted it just as silently and hopped down from the platform to rejoin her friends.

“Look at this,” she said with the faintest hum of satisfaction. “It is nearly seventy dollars.”

Beau was struggling to breathe. Fjord couldn’t remember how to speak. Molly’s hands were sore from clapping and Jester had stars in her eyes. “I want to try,” she whispered. “Let me at it, let me at it, _I_ want to try!”

\-------------------------------------

As the gang watched her march on up to the platform, rolling her sleeves up and unflinching in the cold, Beau making suggestive comments to Fjord all the way, Molly glanced over and nodded gently at Caleb. 

“If you don’t mind me saying so, I just want to thank you again,” he murmured. “Not just for all the stuff about the Victory Pit, but also…also just for coming out to spend time with us.”

Caleb chuckled, and raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Of course,” he returned, “why would I not?”

Molly’s eyes glimmered. Frost nipped at the corners of his smile.

“Well, dear…truthfully, just a few months ago, I wouldn’t have even dreamed of being here with you today.”

There was a moment’s pause, and then a tiny grin crept across Caleb’s face. His nose was pink, his cheeks were flushed.

“That is a good point,” he admitted. “Perhaps times have changed, _ja_?”

In front of them, Jester was spitting into her hands and squaring up her shoulders to prepare for the strike. Beau and Nott led the crowd in a round of cheers to her name.

“They certainly have for me,” Molly laughed. “My life was wonderful before, and it’s wonderful now in a new way, but it’s just that much better with you.”

Caleb’s scarf shifted around his growing smile. “Thank you for saying so,” he chuckled again. “I think it is safe to say that mine is not so bad anymore either.”

Jester flexed into the audience. Fjord whistled, and then looked embarrassed that he did.

“Just in time for the new year, eh?” Molly nodded. “Now you also get to turn over a new leaf! A better leaf.”

“A tealeaf?”

“Ha!” He snorted and shook his head. “A tealeaf, sure, very good.”

Caleb’s eyes shone. “ _Danke_ , danke. But I want you to know, you are a much punnier fellow than I think I ever will be.”

Jester graciously accepted the hammer from the guard. She raised it high over her head.

“Well, not with that attitude!” Molly grinned. “Go on, think of a pun, right now.”

“But, but, I just did one,” Caleb said, waving his hands around his friend. “Tealeaf.”

“Come on, do it for me?”

Caleb’s shoulders sagged and he glanced around, searching for inspiration. Almost a millisecond later, a tiny snowflake drifted down and landed itself on Molly’s nose. He grinned.

“There is snow-body like you,” he said, tapping a finger to the melting ice. “How is that for a pun?”

There was a mighty _thwack,_ and the boulder came tumbling down so quickly that the soldiers had to scramble to catch it before it could fall off the platform and into the audience. Jester straightened up, tossed the hammer to one side, and flexed her biceps once more in the winter air to the mad applause of the crowd gathered ‘round.

“That’s my girl!” Fjord shouted, waving his hands around ecstatically. “That’s my girlfriend!”

Molly laughed. He put an arm around Caleb’s shoulders, and delighted when the man relaxed into his grip.

“Perfect,” he beamed. “Absolutely un-brr-lievable.”

Caleb laughed, and it was a free sound.

\-------------------------------------

“Well, ladies, how does it feel to be champions?” Molly asked, throwing one arm around Yasha and the other around Jester. “What do you two mighty badasses want to do now?”

The smell of warm sugar slowly wafted past. They all glanced over, saw a large cart selling all sorts of shining apples and vibrant fruits, all coated in syrups and sugars.

Yasha raised a careful hand. “I should like to try one of those,” she murmured. “They look sweet. I have never had one before.”

\-------------------------------------

Jester took to haggling with the sweets-vendor almost too enthusiastically, dragging a surprised Yasha along behind her. Fjord and Beau split off to examine a wide array of handcrafted lamps at the stall next door, and Caduceus had briefly ducked away to a nearby store, saying something about _delivering a fruitcake, I’ll be right back_ , leaving Molly, Caleb, and Nott clustered around a streetlamp, watching their friends flit through the festivities with amused glints to their eyes.

“Do you suppose there are any bookstores?” Caleb asked suddenly, glancing around the square. “Any vendors of secondhand tomes, that sort of thing?”

“You think they’d sell books at a festival?” Molly laughed. “ _Really_?”

“You never know,” Caleb shrugged defensively. “They _might_.”

“Yeah,” said Nott, a smile spreading across her face as well, “yeah, like a, a, a festive book stall!”

“A barrel of books!” Molly grinned. “Candied books, candied books!”

“Throw a dart!” Nott declared. “Win a book!”

Caleb closed his eyes and ignored their delighted ribbing until Jester and Yasha finally returned with a tray of fresh, hot, caramel apples. They gleamed with the bit of light streaming down from the winter sky, and smelled like a child’s greatest wish.

“Here we go!” Jester announced, waving the rest of their friends over. “Fresh and yummy, they’re still cooling off.”

“Oh, _wow_ ,” Nott breathed, reaching up for one. “They look _amazing_.”

Jester giggled and started handing them out. “I _love_ these,” she hummed, “my momma used to bring them home for me all the time.”

“I have not had one in such a long time,” Caleb sighed, taking a slow bite into his. “Ah, it is almost the same.”

“Oh, gods, they really get stuck in your teeth,” Fjord chuckled through a half-open jaw. “I was _not_ ready for this.”

“Is it good?” Molly asked, nodding excitedly at Yasha. “Is it everything you expected?"

She practically beamed. There was caramel in her smile.

They continued down along the cobbles next, heading closer to the center of the festival. The crowds were fairly dense here, people laughing and talking, carrying various freshly-baked goods out from nearby carts and ovens. Children ran past, bumping into legs and sides, some holding onto the ends of flying streamers, parents exasperatedly running after them with cheer in their smiles.

After another minute or so, the gang arrived at a section of dense stalls and booths, filled almost to overflowing with trinkets and baubles and clothing and accessories. They found celebratory tapestries invoking warm colors of the holidays; small, pressed crests of the Empire used to hang over doorways; counters piled with scarves and racks adorned brightly with jewelry.

Molly’s face lit up like a beacon. He tugged on Caleb’s jacket and gestured wildly at the stalls, whispering, “Hey, hey, see if you can find magic on this stuff! There’s so much, here, I figure something’s gotta be interesting.”

“Well, you know,” Caleb muttered, “it is generally frowned upon to do magic in the open like this. But if you give me a few moments, I can see what I can—”

Molly quickly waved a dismissive hand. His eyes had caught something glittering to his left. “That’s alright then, dear,” he said, “I want to go take a look at _that_.”

What “that” was, mainly, was a long, thin cart with metal posts displaying dozens upon dozens of intricate tapestries. Some were only a foot or so on each side, others much longer, or much thicker. Some were only a few colors and others _hundreds_ , some depicted rolling hills, thick forests, unicorns rearing up on their hind legs or wingless dragons circling through the clouds. More were everyday scenes of the Pentamarket itself, even more just images of flowers or swirling designs, a further few explored the cosmos in star charts and planar systems that evoked a sort of simple beauty in a very complicated world.

But one—Molly noted, as he ran up with the rest trailing slowly behind him—one was a sky-blue, embellished with silver threads, depicting the symbol of the Platinum Dragon. There were several heads woven into the pattern, the larger design surprisingly gaudy given what Molly knew about this dragon and this religion. He ran a hand through the fabric, and almost instantly caught the eye of one of the merchants running the stall.

“It’s beautiful,” he grinned, holding a corner of the tapestry up to the light. “Just _amazing_. How much?”

“Oh, for this piece?” The man quickly turned, raised his spectacles up to the bridge of his nose. “Well, now, that one was handcrafted by me and my partner over a period of about two months, hand-embroidered, very difficult, very exquisite. Anyone would be lucky to have it in their home, you know. I’ve had customers come by and admire it all afternoon—”

“Yes, yes, but how _much_?” Molly pressed.

“Oh. Er, well…” he rubbed his chin and thought. “Well, it’ll probably run you about five hundred doll—”

“I’ll take it!”

Caleb spat out his candy apple. “You’ll _what_?”

Molly beamed and spread his arms out wide “I’ll take it!” he announced. “Come on, it’s the holidays, and we’re going to win big today, aren’t we?”

“Well, hang on,” Fjord said weakly, raising his hand. “Hang on, Molly, are you _sure_ you should be buying something like this? Do you have _space_ for it? Where the hell are you going to put it?”

He shrugged. His credit card was already out and poised to strike.

“It could be a wonderful living room piece,” the merchant volunteered, eyes now gleaming with the promise of a sale. “Or it could be used as a rug, if you aren’t a very big fan of his.”

Jester started snickering in the background. Caduceus looked as close to affronted as any of them had ever seen before.

“It’s a gorgeous rendition,” Molly said, swiping his card through the little machine and signing with a flourish. “I am just _delighted_ to be the proud owner of your incredible work.”

The merchant beamed, bowed his head, then went to help his employees pack up the tapestry.

Molly slid his card back into his pocket and winked to the horrified faces of his friends.

“I have _plans_ for this one,” he said wickedly. “Oh, do I have _plans_.”

\-------------------------------------

“Hey,” said Beau, as they watched Caleb nock his third arrow of the round with the confidence of a man who had no idea what he was doing, “what do you think we’re actually going to have to _do_ in the Victory Pit?”

“Mmm…that’s a good point,” Jester nodded thoughtfully. Caleb blew some hair out of his face. “Maybe we will have to fight the other people who sign up?”

“I wonder how experienced they are,” Fjord said. “Do you think it’s stupid that we’re signing up for this without knowin’ very much?”

“Yes,” said Nott. “Absolutely.”

“Maybe it’ll be a bare-knuckles kind of thing,” Beau shrugged. “No holds barred, do whatever you want?”

Caleb pulled back on the arrow. It went soaring forward about seven feet.

“Maybe it is an obstacle course,” Yasha volunteered. “You know, Ninja Warrior-style.”

“Maybe it’s a cook-off,” Caduceus grinned. “I’d be alright with that." 

“Fjord, you could enter that way too,” Jester said, nudging him in the ribs. “You make really good chili.”

“Maybe we sit around and talk about our feelings,” Nott sighed, and took a long swig from her flask.

“I’d be alright with that too,” Caduceus shrugged.

Caleb returned after handing the bow back to the woman running the stall, his hair tied up into a short ponytail, his eyes at peace with failure.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” he said, nodding to the rest. “What now?”

“Now it’s my turn,” said Nott, rolling up her sleeves and marching past them. “Watch and see how a pro handles it.”

She approached the stall, and after a fair bit of conversation—during which she remembered she was supposed to be a little girl—the woman running the game finally, reluctantly, handed over the weapons.

Nott stood at the edge of the archery range, arrow in hand, and squinted one eye shut.

“Ten bucks says she destroys this,” said Beau, bumping Fjord in the shoulder.

“I’m not taking that,” he said. “We already know she will.”

Two arrows, in quick succession, went shooting off into the distance. Both of them slammed into the bullseye of the target, eliciting a round of cheers from the audience and the Nein, and a round of complete and utter shock from the carnival employee.

“Do you think we should tell her to play like she is bad at this?” Caleb asked, watching Nott expertly nock two more arrows. “What if people get suspicious?”

“That’s their problem,” Jester shrugged. “We’ll just say she’s a prodigy.”

The arrows sunk into the central canvas of the second target. Nott had never looked more pleased with herself.

“She’s well-trained,” Molly explained to a slack-jawed carnival-goer. “She’s going to be in the king’s personal guard, when she grows up.”

“Gods, if that’s the case, he’ll never have to worry about anything, eh, mister? Er…is it ‘mister’?”

Nott’s final two arrows arced high up, found their mark without question. She punched a fist into the air, spun around, and ran up to the employee to demand her prizes.

“I sure hope the Victory Pit has somewhere for us to store our things,” Fjord noted, as Nott was handed two wicker cages and a pair of wooden swords.

“Maybe we can beat our opponents to death with the loot,” Beau suggested. “I’m sure that’d be the most entertaining option, anyways.”

\-------------------------------------

They gawked at the doll clutched within her grasp. Whatever it was, it was the dictionary definition of haphazard: likely hand-stitched by someone without hands, sporting not only two mismatched buttons for eyes and no mouth, but also thick, matted, twine-like hair, and some kind of crown and cape fashioned out of fraying felt.

“It’s the king,” Nott explained, when nobody else said anything. “According to the lady, anyways.”

“You think that counts as heresy?” Molly asked, the first to shake out of his daze. “Shouldn’t something like that be illegal?”

“It looks like the sort of thing you find in horror movies,” said Fjord, making a face. “It looks like some evil guy’s been putting the spirits of little kids in it, or something.”

“Hey, don’t be _so_ mean,” Jester said, reaching over to give the doll a little pat on the head. “I’m sure someone worked very hard to make this.”

“Someone who did not know how to make dolls,” Caleb said. “Someone who did not know what a doll is.”

“I think it’s kinda charming,” shrugged Beau. She was standing off to the side, swinging around one of Nott’s newly-won wooden swords. “I think it would make a decent lucky symbol, or something.”

“What kind of luck?” Yasha asked. “There is good _and_ there is bad.”

Nott stuck the doll into the back of her belt. It hung there, limply.

“I’m going to keep it,” she said, sticking her tongue out at the others. “I won it fair and square, and maybe Beau’s right! Maybe it’ll help us to victory in the Pit!”

They considered the toy for a few moments.

“If, er, if you say so,” Molly sighed.

\-------------------------------------

At this point, the sun had well crested into noon and was now beginning its descent across the sky. The festivities were still going on in full swing, children laughing and people practically dancing through the plaza, but there was a feeling now in the air of something waiting to happen. Like the hum before a storm, or the way the waves whispered before breaking.

This, of course, did not stop the Mighty Nein in the least as they crossed the crowd and approached the Soldier’s Spirit, another one of the larger platforms jutting up from the middle of the Pentamarket. There was a table set up on this one with benches around it, flanked by a few figures in ceremonial military armor. Two individuals currently occupied the seats, burly men with their elbows planted firmly on the tabletop and hands clasped tightly together.

As the gang reached the edge of the platform and looked up, they could also now see that the men were clenching their teeth, the veins on their foreheads straining, sweat gathering down their chins as they faced off in this high-stakes arm-wrestling match. And after a few more seconds of tensing back and forth, one of the fighters slammed the others’ arm down against the table and gave a triumphant yell. The crowd went wild with cheering, and then the victor threw his fists up into the air and started pumping his biceps to the applause.

Beau tugged on the pants leg of the nearest soldier on the platform.

“What’s this?” she called over the noise. “Can we compete?”

The half-elf crouched down and gave her a smile, that faded slightly when he noticed her general…Beau-ness.

“Er…yes, miss,” he said, doing his best not to wither under the intensity of her stare. “This is the Soldier’s Spirit. We’re having a contest now, to see who’s the strongest.”

“Cool, cool,” said Beau. “And who is it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who’s the strongest?”

The man blinked a few times, then gestured vaguely to the burlier fellow on stage. He was wiping his brow with a towel provided by one of the soldiers, and now the group could see that he was one of them as well; he wore the traditional trousers and boots, his jacket and adornments hanging off to the side.

“That’s Gunther,” the half-elf supplied. “He’s one of ours.”

Beau nodded quickly with the air of someone who did not care in the least. “If you win, do you have to stick around and arm-wrestle a bunch of people because you’re suddenly the best?” she asked. “I don’t want to dedicate more time to this.”

“Gods,” muttered Fjord.

“I-well, I mean, you don’t have to!” the guard spluttered.

“Right, right, but do I still get to be the best if that guy sticks around and just keeps going?” she pressed.

The man rubbed the back of his neck. “Er, probably, but don’t be surprised if other contenders start following you around the town to try and take your title.”

“This is like the King of Kong,” Caleb whispered at the back.

“Is this really that important to you guys?” Beau demanded, unrelenting in her assault. “Why are you even _here_?”

“ _Well_ ,” snapped the soldier, and it was impressive he’d lasted this long, “it’s a _fun_ place to display your skill and talent. And we’re always looking for some fine young soldiers to come and join us out there on the fields. To take down the Xhorhasian evils and keep all these fine folks here well taken care of.”

Beau’s eyebrows went up. “Do you get paid?”

“Of course!”

“So you’re _buying_ people’s loyalty?”

At this point, Fjord stepped forward and put a hand on Beau’s shoulder. “I think…I think maybe that’s enough,” he said as diplomatically as he could. “Come on, now, let’s play nice. Are we allowed to compete?”

The soldier seemed conflicted about this. “Well,” he said hesitantly, “in theory, I suppose you are, although your friend’s attitude was really—”

“Fuck you,” said Beau, at the exact same time that Yasha took a step forward and nodded.

“I will do it,” she said. “I would like to try this, this…wrestling of the arms.”

From up on the platform, the reigning champion turned. He looked amiable enough, until he caught sight of Yasha. He considered her hair and face, and then his eyes narrowed.

He threw the towel back at his fellow soldier.

“Let’s do this,” he said.

\-------------------------------------

“GO- _OOO_ , YASHA!” Jester screamed.

“YOU GOT THIS!” Beau yelled.

“SHOW ‘EM WHO’S BOSS!” Molly added, punching a fist over the crowd.

Up on the platform, in a display of the ultimate test of strength and will, Yasha and Gunther’s arm-wrestling match raged on. Both their faces were red with effort, teeth clenched in determination, and despite the cold weather, the chilly air, both of them had also really begun to sweat. There had been a moment, a few seconds in, where Gunther had nearly faltered, but now they were dead-center, elbows raised, eyes boring holes into each other’s faces.

“You…aren’t from…around here, are you?” Gunther hissed through his effort to remain upright.

“I do not…know what you mean,” Yasha spat back.

“Your hair,” he responded, and tried to lever her hand down further, “it’s…got…interesting styling.”

Yasha bit her bottom lip. She forced him back. “Nothing…to do…with…anything.”

He managed to heave himself upright once more, wheezed, “I’ve been…on the front lines…long enough. Seen plenty…of… _your_ kind—”

With a mighty roar, Yasha thrust his hand down towards the countertop, her neck straining from the effort, the crowd going wild as she pushed him further down, further down, his eyes went wide and she could feel him slipping suddenly, could feel his muscles weakening, his resolve wavering, and out in the audience were screams of her friends—

“ _Rip his arms off!”_

“ _No mercy!_ ”

“ _Blood everywhere!_ ”

“ _Use your feminine wiles!_ ”

—she ground her teeth down hard into her gums, dug into her core for one last heave of strength, the fury in her mind mixing with the screaming of the crowd, Gunther’s mildewy breath panting over her, she could see his muscles strain and pop, his shoulder shift from the socket and his throat scream in pain as finally, with one last rage-filled scream, Yasha flexed her own muscles and slammed his arm against the table.

Without even a second for Gunther to react, she shot up to her feet, marched right off the stage.

There was a moment, of shocked silence.

And then the crowd went _insane_.

The soldier running the game scrambled over to his possibly injured comrade at the table as down on the ground, the Mighty Nein swarmed around Yasha to shout her praises up to the skies.

“Flex for us!” Jester cheered. “Flex! That was amazing, Yasha, that was _amazing_!”

She complied, her biceps glowing in the light before Molly handed back her sword and coat.

“That was absolutely fantastic, dear,” he beamed. “You’re a god among us. Now put this on before Beau self-destructs.”

“Fuck you,” said Beau. “And, uh…that was fuckin’ _cool as shit_ ,” she added with an embarrassed grin.

“Thank you,” Yasha chuckled. “It felt…pretty good.”

“I am no longer concerned at all about entering the Pit,” Caleb noted, with a faint nod towards her. “If you are on our side, then there is nothing to fear.”

“There’s still _plenty_ to fear,” Nott mumbled. “But, uh, you’re really cool,” she added with a pat to Yasha’s thigh.

“Did you get injured, at all?” Caduceus asked. “I can heal you, if you need.”

“No, thank you,” Yasha chuckled. “Although my opponent may need some help.”

This elicited another round of whistles and clapping from the gang. Over the noise, Caduceus called, “No, it’s fine! I can just let him deal with it.”

Eventually, when the applause died down, in the glow of Yasha’s triumph, there was a sudden ringing from Fjord’s pockets. Fjord reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone.

“The alarm,” he said, waving the screen around. “It’s almost two, now. We need to get to the Pit to sign up.”

“Shit, you’re right!” Molly clapped his hands together. “C’mon now, everyone! I think we’ve had enough foreplay, anyways, eh?”

\-------------------------------------

They muscled their way to the front of the crowd, eventually pushing into the shaded interior of the Victory Pit’s receiving chamber. An enormous arched ceiling welcomed them, framed with massive wooden columns and banners of blues and golds. They managed to weave through a sea of excited would-be spectators, and soon found a short pedestal jutting out from the middle of the hall. A carnival organizer in a crisp brown suit stood atop it, a human male in his late 50s who looked like he was fighting and losing a personal battle against middle-agedness. He was shouting to be heard over the crowd’s noise; his voice, thin and reedy, was saying:

“Please, please, enter slowly! The event will be beginning shortly! Would you please—gods, no, yes, right this way, go evenly! Mindful of the stairs, be orderly, people—”

Using Jester and Yasha as living riot shields, the Mighty Nein shoved their way towards him.

“Is this where we going to be in the fight?” Jester called up as they approached. “Is this for the Pit?”

He barely paused, still glancing around and waving his arms to direct the crowd. “The fight will be soon, yes,” he nodded dismissively, “simply follow the—”

“We’d like to enroll,” Fjord clarified, clearing his throat. “We want to participate in the competition.”

The man stopped. He glanced down, surveyed the group beneath him. “You wish to enter?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Fjord said. “If that’s alright?”

The man quickly nodded, jumped down, did his best not to be instantly swallowed by the crowd. “Very well!” he shouted. “Registration is closing soon, but you lot are just in time. Follow me, please!”

He led them away from his central pedestal and towards a large wooden door off to the side. Through there, they walked down a slight hallway until they reached a low-lit lounge. The group scarcely had time to take in comfortable furniture, wide windows, a long table lined with trays of food and a strange array of well-dressed guests, before another individual strode over to meet them. He was a human in his early thirties, dressed in a sharp blue suit with slicked-back hair, holding a clipboard and a general air of snobbery that instantly set Beau on edge.

“Good afternoon,” he said, deigning to give them the faintest dip of his head. “I am Yadka Brigman, Guildhead of the Filigree House and organizer of this hibernal tournament. Who are you all?”

“Well, of course,” said Fjord, instantly stepping forward and giving a slight bow, “we are the _illustrious_ Mighty Nein. Servants to our fine, fine empire.”

The man glanced them up and down, raised an eyebrow, pressed his pen tip to his clipboard. “The Mighty Nein, you say? Where are you from, Mighty Nein?”

“All parts,” said Fjord.

“All over!” added Jester. “Everywhere, and nowhere.”

The man’s eyebrow went up further. “You are from…everywhere?” he asked.

“Yep!”

“Then…you will be _announced_ as being from everywhere, is that right?”

“That’s good,” Jester nodded. “We _are_ from lots of places, after all.”

“Yeah,” Beau shorted, “it makes us seem cultured.”

“Well, if you insist,” said Brigman, and made a note of it on his page. “Now!” he glanced sharply at the group. “We have warriors from all around the Marrow Valley here to compete today, many of whom that have been travelling through the empire for decades, or who’ve seen battle on the front lines of the eastern wastes and lived to tell the tale. Are you certain you are still eager to lose your spirits and risk your lives?”

There was a general exchanging of glances among the group. Molly shrugged.

“Sure,” he said. “What’re the rules?”

Brigman, to his credit, recovered rather spectacularly. “The rules,” he huffed, “the _rules_ , are that whatever you bring in here is at your disposal to use. We have a small armory, off to the side, should you need to stow belongings or borrow protective gear and simple armaments. No modern weaponry is allowed, and a list of prohibited items will be posted on the wall by the entrance. Should you be seen using non-permissible tools, you will be immediately eliminated from the competition. With _your_ group’s entry, that makes four teams participating today. You will be brought down to the holding area before the competition begins, and upon our signal, you will be allowed into the Victory Pit to face off with your chosen peril.”

Caduceus raised a hand. “What are we fighting, exactly?” he asked. “The other groups, or—”

“Of course not!” the man scoffed. “You will be fighting a number of creatures that have been acquired and kept for this tournament. Beasts and things, that have been either found wandering over the ranges of Xhorhas, or that have terrorized the local countryside and been brought to us by the Righteous Brand.”

“Frightening beasts?” Nott’s voice called out. “Big beasts? Magical beasts?”

“There may very well be, young missy.”

Nott stared at the ground. She sighed. “Of _course_ there will.”

“Come on, now,” Caleb said, nudging her gently. “We knew that going in, _ja_?”

“Yeah, _yeah,_ I know.”

The man nodded his head, drawing the group’s attention back to him. “The competition will begin soon, so best to prepare yourselves now,” he said. “There will be three rounds, increasing tremendously in difficulty—”

“Of _course_ ,” repeated Nott.

“—and you will only be allowed short periods of time in between for recovery. Each round historically has lasted a maximum of twenty minutes, so resting will be limited and you will not be aided in any way through this process.  Though, there _are_ city clerics on hand, to help curtail any fatal injuries. You are entering of your own volition, knowing these dangers, so keep in mind that all responsibilities and consequences are on your shoulders. However, the victory is worth it! All of this will be displayed in front of the Starosta, the appointees of the Crown, and the elite of the Tri-Spires. Money and glory are here before you. Good luck to you, Mighty Nein, and assuming you put up a good fight, I will be here to congratulate you when it is over. And please,” he added with a faint, cheery nod, “ _do_ try not to die.”

\--------------------------------------

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck- _FUCK!_ ” Nott screamed, running through the arena with gravel flying at her heels, crossbow in hand and heart leaping from her chest. “We’re going to die! Fucking— _fuck_ , we’re going to _die_!”

“That’s not helping!” Fjord shouted back. “Can you just try to stay positive?!”

“ _You_ try being positive! Fuck you!”

Rather than answer, Ford shook his head and whirled back around to focus on the fight. His hands were wreathed with eerie green light and as he moved, he sent two blasts of energy spiraling through the air and towards the terrible creature before them. It roared as the bolts struck against its greyish-brown hide, and its enormous jagged mouth—fifteen-feet up in the air—scattered saliva and poison across the chilly winter sky. It reared forwards, one of its three gigantic tendrils lashed out and wraped itself around Beau, who swore and started punching the limb with as much effort as she could muster. Jester darted forward after her, shield in hand, holy symbol in the other, to summon a terrible column of radiant blue energy down from the heavens. A sphere of flame suddenly shot out from behind a section of fallen rubble, revealing Caleb’s hiding location as his attack struck the monster in one of its beady eyes. Molly immediately somersaulted from his own shelter, pausing mid-way with radiance burning from one sword and frost hanging off the other. He thrust a hand out and glared up at the horrific otyugh, and with a voice sharpened by generations of smoke and brimstone and infernal blood, screamed:

“ _YOU’VE GOT NO ARMS! IT’S AWUFL!_ ”

Jester despite the situation, collapsed into giggles. But the monster seemed unbothered and began roaring down at her, its thick saliva dripping into the sand before another one of its arms lashed out and grabbed her. It started thrashing around, trying to slam Beau and Jester together, desperation pounding behind its beady eyes. It managed to knock Beau out against the smooth arena walls, and then just as it was about to drive Jester into her unconscious friend, another blast of holy light, pale green this time but still blinding, rocked the stadium like an earthquake and swallowed all with its burn. And as the brilliance faded and the searing heat settled down, a dark shape suddenly split through the field, sword ready and rage in her eyes, as Yasha leapt forward and sliced down against the monster’s head with one terrible, final, world-ending strike.

The otyugh staggered. It roared one last time, more of a moan than anything, before collapsing down into the gravel and falling still. Its tentacle-like arms crashed limply against the ground, Jester and Beau instantly spilling from its grasp.

In the screams and stomps and cheers and applause that followed, Jester stood up, bent over, and kicked the creature’s heavy hide.

“You still haven’t got any arms, you stupid.”

And with that, the round was over. The Mighty Nein would move on.

\--------------------------------------

“Thanks,” Beau sighed as Caduceus pressed a hand against her arm and sent a wave of green light washing over her skin. “Gods, I needed that.”

“I know,” he nodded. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much.”

From behind the windows to the stadium, the third battle of the day raged on. The Mountain Makers, a gang of dwarves and gnomes, were currently taking on an enormous frost troll. The dwarven fighters were assaulting it head-on, warhammers and shields at the ready, as behind them, the gnomes blasted wave after wave of fiery magic against the troll’s teal-colored hide. The creature roared in anger as the fight progressed, shaking its shaggy white hair and screaming icy breath that froze even the cold winter air around it. It was fearsome, to be sure, and struck terror into the hearts of those watching.

But all in all, this battle didn’t seem as intense as the Mighty Nein were expecting—these magic-users knew what they were doing, and with their raging flames they made short work of this creature. The frost troll was trapped and confused here, lost among the dry arena sand and enveloped with wave after wave of fire. And eventually, after one final blast of flame, it collapsed to its knees, singed beyond consciousness, to another wild roar of applause from the audience.

“They had real good teamwork,” Beau noted, leaning away from the window. “Maybe we should come up with some special moves.”

“Like what?” Nott asked.

“Like heal,” Molly grumbled. He felt the withering stares of their clerics, and immediately backpedaled. “I just meant, er…heal _more_?”

“Maybe you all shouldn’t run in so quickly,” Caleb suggested. “Or just wait a bit, first, to gauge the beast.”

“What?” Beau blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nott rolled her eyes. “Don’t run into the crowd,” she said. “You’ll die if you—”

“All the way from the Menagerie Coast, please welcome, the Stubborn Stock!” The MC shouted, and behind the glass, another gate flew open and another group rushed to battle, cutting her off mid-sentence.

The gang returned to the windows to watch the battle unfold as the fighters in the arena braced themselves and rattled their weapons in anticipation. And then, right on cue, a fifteen-foot crocodile came barreling out from behind one of the doors, its jaws opening and snapping as it rushed in. It leapt over one of the defensive walls and immediately bore down onto one of the fighters, who got trapped in its jaws and screamed in pain as he wrestled himself free. The group rushed in to assault the creature, one dark-skinned human—their leader—leapt onto the back of the crocodile and jammed a shortsword into its head. Another fighter helped push their injured friend to safety, then spun around just in time to get smacked across the field by the crocodile’s tail. The battle went back and forth, the audience _oooooh_ -ing and _awwww_ -ing the whole time—even Beau lost herself momentarily in the action and started cheering their opponents on.

Finally, after nearly five minutes of struggle, the Stubborn Stock all peeled away from the creature and started circling around it at the center of the field. Then the leader made a few quick motions with his hands, and together they all cycled in to assault at once, the leader leaping atop the crocodile’s back once more and carving down at its eyes as his friends ran in to slice at the creature’s hide. And as it pulled back, screaming in pain, two more ran up and drove their weapons into its throat, and with a final mighty roar, the creature collapsed against the field.

“Did you see that?” Beau whispered. “Look, that guy had a sign, and then things happened.”

“We should do that,” Caduceus agreed. “If Caleb snaps his fingers, we’ll all run in and attack it.”

“ _Was_? Why me?”

They watched the Stubborn Stock retrieve two of their fallen allies, slap them awake, and return into the holding chamber—wounded and winded, but alive.

“Heh, that wasn’t too bad!” the leader called, and winked over towards the Mighty Nein. “You’re on deck soon, good luck in round two!”

“Good luck to yourself,” Beau grumbled, immediately. “You…you fuckin’ watch your own neck.”

“You tried,” Molly said, clapping her on the shoulder. She shrugged him off almost immediately and gave him a withering glare.

\--------------------------------------

The first team to fall was the Last Line, the group of soldiers that had come down south for the festival. In only a manner of seconds, the audience and the Mighty Nein alike had watched in horror as the entire phalanx was ripped apart and mauled by a two minotaurs, then brutally mangled and scattered across the field.

“Shit,” Fjord whispered, as clerics ran into the arena to save those they could. “I mean… _fuck_.”

“I don’t know if we could have taken those,” Jester murmured, biting her lip. “That was…intense.”

“We’ll just have to focus on one enemy at a time,” Molly said. “We can’t let them divide us.”

\--------------------------------------

The gates groaned as they were drawn open, chains rattling and shaking against the darkening sky.

For a moment, nothing happened—just silence and the whistling wind blowing by. But then suddenly, there came two piercing howls, deep and mournful, echoing out from the east and northern chambers. And leaping out of the chilly darkness, eyes glowing ice-blue and paws crunching against the gravel, came two massive, white-furred wolves, whipped up into a frenzy, barreling on towards them with blood and frost in their fangs.

Jester instantly clapped her hands together, conjuring a duplicate of herself from thin air. Fjord’s chest flashed with a chilly blue light, and ice began to creep across his armor.

And then, the wolves attacked.

\--------------------------------------

Splinters went flying as Beau’s wooden sword was shattered in the maw of the wolf that had pinned her down, though the creature whined in agony as a burst of flame rocketed across the arena and blasted into its side. The other wolf, a few feet away, was being pounded into submission by Yasha's and Molly’s blades, and every so often a brilliant beam of pale green light would envelop its hide and leave behind the smell of burning fur and singed flesh.

Ice coated the floor of the stadium in sheets, frost curling up menacingly from the scars on the ground left after the bursts of winter air from the wolves’ jagged mouths. Now the Mighty Nein were being even more careful to avoid their jaws, ducking around when one took too deep a breath, spending their efforts separating the creatures from one another to try and divide-then-conquer the fight.

Beau’s staff flew through the air, slamming into the wolf directly in front of her before a spectral lollipop came careening down the aisle to batter the creature like a vengeful, high-caloric baseball bat. Crossbow bolts rained down from the heavens, or rather from Nott’s hasty perch atop a ruined pillar. Blasts of green energy intermingled with the flames flying from Caleb’s hands as Fjord’s eldritch energy found their targets. Yasha’s sword glinted high in the sunlight, Molly’s blades were glowing once more, Caduceus had summoned a swarm of bugs that caught into the wolves’ fur and gnawed at their flesh, and as the crowd grew louder and louder and louder, pounding their feet against the benches and throwing their hands to the sky, Yasha finally managed to whirl around and slam the hilt of her sword right against the spine of one of the wolves, which almost instantly crumpled to the ground in an agonized whine.

The other wolf followed soon after, as Molly wedged his ice-covered blade into its mouth, and arced up.

Then two singed, battered, blackened and bloody pelts lay in the sand.

The crowd _loved_ it.

“I almost feel kind of bad,” Jester whispered as they were ushered back into the holding area. “I mean…those were just doggies. And we had to hurt them. To…to _kill_ them.”

“They were tryin’ to kill us,” Beau pointed out, and pulled a shard of ice from her shoulder. “And _we_ got hurt too.”

“Think of it this way,” Molly said, giving Jester a pat on the arm. “Those poor things were caught by the city. We probably put them out of their misery, at least.”

“Yeah,” Jester muttered. “Yeah, I guess so.”

\--------------------------------------

The Mountain Makers were the next to fall. The Stubborn Stock hung on by just a thread.

“Two rounds completed, and only two teams remain!” the MC shouted to the roaring of the crowd. “In this, the third and final round, will they all fall? Will they survive? We shall see as next, we call forth: THE MIGHTY NINE!”

The doors opened. It was their turn once more.

\--------------------------------------

“WHERE DID THEY FIND A _HILL_ GIANT?!” Fjord screamed through the dust and panic. “WHAT THE FUCK?! I THOUGHT THOSE WERE EXTINCT!!”

Caleb thrust three rays of scorching flame across the arena before swiftly ducking behind a pillar. “THE IMPLICATIONS OF YOUR STATEMENT ARE EXTREMELY CONCERNING!” he shouted back. “WE CAN DISCUSS THIS LATER, IF YOU REQUIRE!”

“Shut up!” Jester yelled, sending her spectral lollipop to bash the giant over the head. “Focus on being alive!”

Across the way, Yasha, Molly, and Beauregard had engaged the hill giant head-on. It was an enormous figure of blubber and muscle, standing over fifteen-feet tall with stringy dark hair and nothing but a tattered loincloth draped across its waist. It carried a massive club, that it swung down against the group in a frenzied onslaught, kicking up sand and gravel and splinters of wood, even catching against a broken pillar and scattering it like dirt.

And as the group attacked, hacking and slashing and desperately trying to stay out of the way, the giant suddenly lurched forwards, brought the head of its club down, and managed to catch Mollymauk off guard with a heavy, sickening _thud_ to the sand. The crowd around them _ooooh_ -ed with half-parts sympathy and half-parts delight, and the giant reared back, revealing Molly’s prone form lying motionless on the ground. There was a moment of terror, a glimpse of despair, but before anyone else could even shout anything, there was a sudden blinding flash of pale green light and Molly staggered to his feet. Yasha instantly leapt in to engage the beast and draw attention away and her friend limped closer to safety.

“Thanks, Duces!” he shouted over the roaring giant. “I owe you one!”

“Just stay alive, please,” Caduceus called back.

Emboldened by now having a cleric so willing to heal, the Mighty Nein redoubled their efforts and focused fire on attacking rather than defending. Fjord took an aggressive stance, flicked his wrist and summoned a brutal-looking sword with a flash of dark seawater, then sent two spheres of green energy careening off towards the giant. Beau pounded at the creature’s legs with her staff, Yasha’s sword sliced through blubbery flesh, and Jester cackled manically as, no longer restrained by the role of “Sole Healer,” she sent her duplicate running forward with a handful of crackling black miasma—the promise of a terrible Inflict Wounds.

Caleb and Nott ducked behind some fallen stones, caught one another’s eye for just a moment, then nodded. Nott came running out from around the rubble, scrambled up onto one of the remaining pillars and fired bolt after bolt from her ramshackle crossbow. Caleb steeled himself, took a deep breath, pressed himself against the stone and under his breath, chanting to keep himself steady, he muttered, “We are the Mighty Nein, the Mighty Nein, the Mighty Nein, can’t be mighty without the nein…”

He launched forward a firebolt that whizzed through the air and exploded on the giant’s belly, leaving a patch of fur now singed and hairless. The creature roared with pain, and then narrowed its eyes and swiveled around to stare at Caleb, whose face went pale as he ducked back behind cover. This didn’t stop the giant, though, who immediately grabbed a pillar off the ground and, like a javelin, threw six hundred pounds of stone towards the tiny creature that had scorched it—

—Caleb had a terrifying moment, where the column careening towards him looked terribly like a steel spear—

Luckily, the rock’s trajectory missed him entirely, slamming instead a different rubble-wall nearby. Not-so-luckily, the wall exploded from the impact, catching Caleb up in the force, knocking him to the ground with a few nice bruises to boot. Nott saw this, and her eyes went wide. She started screaming, leapt off her perch and sprinted towards the giant, nearly frothing at the mouth with rage.

Molly also straightened himself up, seemed to take a deep breath, and then leapt back into the fray, with one sword glowing and the other caked in frost. His first strike carved up along the bottom of the giant’s blubbery, thick belly, then as the creature turned with pain, he whirled around and stabbed his other blade into the back of its thigh. It moaned, screamed in agony, and blood began splattering across the sand.

Two shurikens came soaring up from Beau’s grasp next, and sank into the giant’s stomach. Nott, screaming in fury, fired two crossbow bolts up, one hitting the giant’s eye. It lunged out towards her in retaliation, but missed and instead caught Beau in a blow that knocked her a good ten feet back in the gravel. Then Yasha returned with a strike against the giant’s wrist, echoed with holy light from both Jester and Caduceus’s radiant flames, pummeled again by another round of eldritch blasts. The giant screamed once more, reared up, threw its club aside and prepared to bring both fists down against the group clustered in front of it—

—and then, face-down on the ground, watching all of this happen through one wide eye, terrified out of his mind but determined to save the only people left in this world that he loved, Caleb reached out and grabbed a fistful of sand. He threw himself upwards, staggered back against the wall, let the sand fall through his fingers and his eyes flashed orange and the magic took hold—

From across the arena, out of nowhere, the giant stumbled back. It glanced around. It seemed confused, shook its head, crushed a pillar with one hand as it reached up to slap its face. And then it took another step back. And then another. And another.

And then it fell to its knees, and collapsed in the dirt.

Blood and drool trickled from its mouth. It didn’t move, but it did start to snore.

In the shocked silence that followed, Beau found the MC. “Did…did we _win_?” she asked, shouting up at his booth. “Is it over?”

There was a quiet hush, and waiting with baited breath. Then the Master of Ceremonies shrugged, and made a “go on,” gesture with his hands.

The Mighty Nein turned towards the fallen giant.

“Hurry,” Caleb called quickly, picking himself up out of the sand. “It only lasts a minute.”

That was more time than they needed.

They closed in.

Beau got the first blow, pounded a fist into the giant’s eye and as it started to stir, roaring with bewildered pain, Yasha’s sword came down with the fury of judgement. More green light washed over the stadium, one pale and divine and the other eerie and unknowable, then flame against the creature’s hide and wounds suddenly split down its stomach in a wave of rotting, necrotic energy.

It managed to crawl to its knees in the onslaught, but with their fury, their panic, their rage and pure will to _survive_ , it was all too much. It was all too brutal. It was almost like poetry, but of the worst kind.

And then finally, as it brought its club up for one last desperate swing, Nott the Brave leveled her crossbow at this bruised, battered, _beaten_ creature, and fired.

It hit the giant straight between the eyes.

For a moment, nothing.

And then, like a mountain crumbling to sand, it fell.

And as the crowd exploded into roaring applause, as the dust billowed up with this falling behemoth, as the screens flashed their images across the stadium, as the MC screamed triumphant into his microphone, as the audience stamped their feet like thunder in the benches, as the world around them cheered and _rejoiced—_

Mollymauk Tealeaf grabbed his friends in close, threw his arms around as many as he could, brought all of them, _all_ of them together into a tight circle of shoulders within the falling cloud of gravel and sand. He fought to keep his voice even, stumbled slightly in his steps, could feel the smile bursting wide across his face.

“I’ll give a speech later,” he promised, and wiped the tears away on his shoulder. “When—when we’re all alone,  together, I’ll give a speech. But for now…for now…I…”

He took a breath. His friends grinned back at him.

“You all are _everything_ to me,” he whispered. “Thank… _thank_ you. I never could have done this without you.”

“Shut up,” Beau responded. “You’re—you’re making me get dust in my eyes.”

\--------------------------------------

The holding cell was tomb-silent as they waited.

“I almost feel terrible hoping they’ll lose,” Jester whispered, face plastered against the window. “I don’t want them to get hurt, but…we made it _so_ far.”

“It is not something to be ashamed of,” Yasha murmured. “Victory is allowed to be painful.”

“No kidding,” Beau groaned, shifting her recently-healed shoulder around in a circle. “This is probably the most painful victory we’ve had in a while.”

“I feel that one,” Fjord sighed. There was an ice pack pressed to his forehead.

“I was stabbed last time,” Caleb pointed out. “This time, no stab.”

“This time you were _amazing,_ ” Nott said fiercely. “The way you knocked the giant out, how did you _do_ that?”

“Sleep spell,” he shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “An old classic. But you, _spatz_ , that _shot_ at the end, it was _phenomenal_.”

“Aw, it was nothin’.”

“Molly, how are you holding up?” Caduceus asked, glancing back as the others spoke. “Are you feeling…”

He trailed off as he saw the expression on the tiefling’s face. Through sharp red eyes and those distracting features, usually where there was so much color, or emotion, or spirit, right now on Molly’s face there was nothing but calm. Nothing but quiet. But stillness. He was too busy waiting to feel anything else.

Waiting, and not daring to hope.

Caduceus nodded and matched his gaze, turning back to the windows and watching the arena with a solemn sort of patience to see what would happen. The Stubborn Stock were now facing off against an enormous beast, longer than the hill giant had been tall, a 20-foot dragon-like creature with a long snout and crippled wings that flapped angrily as it fought. Its legs were massive and clawed, its long tail armed with a wicked, poisonous stinger that it was using to fend off its attackers with a uniquely terrifying fury.

One of the mercenaries, a short dwarven fellow, charged forward with warhammers at the ready, only to get snatched up by the wyvern’s jaws and catapulted across the arena and into the far wall with a sickening _crunch_. Its attention was then grabbed by an older armored human, who yanked some sort of holy symbol from his chest and began to chant loudly as his halfling friend charged up and began plowing into the wyvern with his own warhammer. Bolts of blue arcane light soared across the battlefield from an elven sorcerer and into the creature’s hide, before the leader of the Stock charged in as well. He seemed to make good progress for but a moment, sending blueish-purple blood spraying up into the air. But then, the wyvern’s stinger came quickly slicing through the air, spearing him in the chest and sending him scattering to the ground with a grimace. It rounded on the cleric next, lashed out with its jaws and found purchase, sure enough tossing him quickly to the side with armor bent and horribly mangled like a crushed soda can. Its tail lashed out again, catching the sorcerer next unawares, and then its claws snagged against the halfling and he too went still, talons ripping brutally through flesh.

In a matter of minutes, it was just the leader of the gang left facing off against this monster in the cold, standing amid the wreckage of his fallen companions. He gave a laugh, loud and full into the air, heavy with a confidence and pride and delight that masked the resigned recognition in his heart. He pounded his feet into the sand, bore his teeth to cheering of the crowd.

Then he narrowed his eyes at the wyvern, shook his shoulders, gripped his battleaxe, and _charged_.

No one could ever call him a coward.

And as he was decimated by a maw of jagged fangs, as his blood painted sharp, brutal claws, as his armor thudded down against sand and his battleaxe went scattering off into the distance, the audience reared back in their seats and then cheered for the drake, and an army of clerics ran out onto the field to begin administering to the fallen and wrangling this beast.

The crowd was going wild. But after the chains were tied and the mercenaries saved, a sort of waiting calm settled over the arena.

The Mighty Nein, watching behind glass, froze.

Molly was the first to realize. His sharp eyes went wide.

“Wait,” he breathed, and shot to his feet. “Wait…wait a minute, they—are they done? They fell, does that mean…are they done, did…did we _win_?”

As if on cue, the MC’s smile suddenly bloomed across the screens, to a growing wave of thunderous, roaring, ecstatic applause. He took a huge bow, then gestured over towards the blood in the sand with a grin that threatened to split faces in two.

“The Stubborn Stock have fallen!” he screamed into the howling crowd. “Join us now, as we celebrate our new and only champions, the Warriors from Everywhere, the Raging Killers, the Wolf-Tamers, the Giant-slayers, the one, the only, the _MIGHTY NINE!_ ”

\--------------------------------------

“Actually, it is the Mighty _Nein_ ,” Caleb said as they were pushed out onto the field to accept their honors, “it is Zemnian, it means—"

\--------------------------------------

The reception afterwards was warm, sunset-lit, lined with long buffet tables and soft couches. It had waiters holding tiny trays of champagne, and a string quartet playing off to the side. The small crowd gathered in the chamber—made up of the city’s elite and the still-standing competitors—all applauded as the Mighty Nein entered, showered them with praise and admiration before slowly turning back to their conversations. And the gang, adrenaline-filled and battle-weary as they were, found themselves easing and relaxing as smell of warm food and the soft violin music drifted past their bloodstained faces. Even Beau instinctively stood up a little straighter, before quickly remembering who she was.

“Please, wait here, enjoy the party,” said Guildmaster Brigman, beaming at the group. “We will bring out your winnings shortly, but for now, mingle! Bask in your glory, Champions. You’ve earned it.”

He bowed his head slightly, then vanished off into the crowd.

The Mighty Nein stood there a few seconds more, drinking in the atmosphere. And then Nott’s stomach started to rumble. She turned and looked up at her friends.

“I’m going to see if they have any meat,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t eat too much!” Jester called to her vanishing back. “We still are going to mine and Fjord’s apartment later, remember!”

“And I am _very_ excited for that part,” Molly grinned, “but that stuffy man has a point. We should enjoy this while it lasts! I mean, gods, we just fucking _won_ the fucking _Victory Pit_. Gang, we…we’re practically heroes of the realm!”

“ _And_ we’re getting the Moondrop back,” Beau added. “Plus some extra money on the side.”

“You’re absolutely right, my dear!” Molly was so giddy, he didn’t even care who he was praising. His voice trembled, in the best way imaginable. “I…you all, thank you, I should—I should call Gustav, now! Oh…oh _gods_ , he’s going to be absolutely ecstatic when he hears this, oh my gods, oh my _gods_ —”

Then he too vanished off to the side, yanking his phone out and almost dropping it in his excitement, leaning against a far wall and dialing the number with gusto.

The rest of the gang turned towards each other.

“It’s been…quite a day, hasn’t it?” Fjord grinned gently to the group. “I mean… _man_ , that all happened, huh?”

Jester reached up and wiped some blood from his cheek. “I’m really proud of us,” she said with a faint smile. “I can’t believe we _did_ that.”

“We are _alive_ ,” Caleb agreed, staring up at the ceiling with a strange grin across his face. “You all…we all… _survived_.”

“Of course we did,” Beau shrugged, crossing her arms then wincing slightly. “We’re—ow—we’re fucking badasses.”

“We are not just badasses,” Yasha corrected, “we are _the_ badasses.”

“I’ve never been a badass before,” Caduceus mused. “Does it always hurt this much?”

Beau punched him playfully in the shoulder. “Pain means you’re getting stronger, Duces.” Then she turned to Yasha and added, “Come on, then! We earned this party, let’s fucking _enjoy_ it. Be back in a few.”

They wandered off towards the buffet line, and Jester giggled and pulled on Fjord’s arm. “I want to go mingle with the fancy people,” she said. “Caleb and Caduceus, do you want to come too?”

Caleb snorted and quickly shook his head. “Pass,” he said. “I will find a chair to the side and remember how to breathe for a moment. Perhaps later.”

“I’ll join you,” Caduceus volunteered. “I’m not much for crowds either.”

“Aw, man, okay! Suit yourselves!”

“See y’all in a bit.”

As Fjord and Jester split off to start harassing the city’s upper-crust, Caleb and Caduceus made their way over to one of the windows and sat down along the cushioned ledge. They glanced around, took in the gentle atmosphere of the reception hall, the calm milling about of people and the warm smells and soothing light, and for the first time in the last few hours, they remembered what it had meant to be calm and at peace.

“You know, my life has taken some twists and turns,” Caleb murmured, soft smile on his face, “but I never could have anticipated anything like _this_.”

“You’re telling me?” Caduceus chuckled. “I came to this city to sell tea. Now I think I’m a national hero, or something.”

“ _Ja_ , I do not like being in the spotlight much,” Caleb agreed, “but for some reason I find myself not caring so much, now. I feel like a new person, almost. And…it is thanks to the Mighty Nein. The time that I have spent with them, with you too,” he added, nudging Caduceus in the arm, “these have been some of the happiest days of my life.”

“Same here,” Caduceus chuckled. “This is a colorful bunch.”

“Indeed. We have been through so much together, in just a short amount of time. And you have now entered the crucible with us, and survived!” he laughed. “How does it feel, my tall friend?”

Caduceus considered this for a moment. He shrugged.

“I’m a little hungry,” he rumbled. “A little thirsty.”

Caleb laughed again and clapped the firbolg on the back. “Good point!” he started glancing quickly around the hall. “We do not have to mingle, but we should get in on some of that food, so we are not missing out on—”

He stopped. He froze.

“Er…Caleb?” Caduceus asked slowly. “Mister Caleb, are you alright?”

“…on…missing on…missing out on…”

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. The excitement and the thrill and the warmth and the joy, suddenly all of it, out of nowhere, was drained from his body. Everything from these last few months, these last few weeks, these last few days, all of it was gone, gone, missing from his mind; all the quiet solace he’d found with Nott in the kitchen of their apartment, all the jokes and smiles Jester had drawn from him in the darkness, he couldn’t remember the wisdom Beau had shared with him in the gym, couldn’t remember the confidence Fjord had sought from him in the library, couldn’t remember the songs of angels he and Yasha had once hummed, couldn’t begin to think of the wide, floppy smile Caduceus had given him when they first met.

And on top of it all, on top of everything else, Caleb couldn’t remember a single one of the memories he’d ever made with Molly. Every wink that they’d shared, every secret that they’d told, every hug and every hum and every smile over coffee, not their moments of cheer nor soft, slow laughs, nor the unsaid words they’d always wanted to breathe, and every day of enjoyment and hour of belonging, every minute of warmth and every second of—for once, forever, being _loved_ —all of it, altogether, in that moment, was gone.

Instead, in the void, as Caduceus poked Caleb’s shoulders and the party ran on around them, in that darkness, something slow and something _old_ was beginning to creep through.

It wasn’t the sort of thing that hit all at once. It wasn’t the sort of thing that jabbed through the heart. It was much less violent, much less obtuse, felt more like a pain that seeped slowly through skin, spread through lungs like smoke, it was a horror, a terror, a cold, crippling _crawl_ that rattled the bones and shook the ribs and felt like an unwanted hand on the shoulder. Like a cruel smile of pride. Like an old voice, at the back of the mind, humming sins, whispering truths—

—like the very same voice that had now, just now, in this very second, turned around and stepped back from the canapés and wiped its hands on a napkin and slowly, amiably, horrifyingly, introduced itself to Beauregard and Yasha.

Caleb’s mind shut down.

His muscles screamed for him to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *final Pam voice* god forgive me
> 
> But in all seriousness, thanks so so much for reading!! This chapter in particular was a heckin' LONG one, so I hope you forgive me for this slough and for any typos there might be!! I'm workin' hard to hit the schedule (and the next update should be the day after christmas!) and I really really appreciate y'all sticking through this story with me! As always, of course, Comments and Kudos keep me going!! between updates you can find me on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock) All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!! 
> 
> Thanks so so much for reading, and I hope you guys all have an amazing holiday season/winter break!!!
> 
> <333333333
> 
> ( **ALSO!** the amazing [@sameshork](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/) continues to blow my fuckin' socks away with FANTASTIC ART, featuring [the amazing group hug post-fight!!!!](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/post/181374833791/mollymauk-tealeaf-grabbed-his-friends-in-close) Please go over, and give them some love!!!)


	24. On Nights Like These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all had a very lovely christmas (if you celebrate!) Welcome to ch. 24, which was supposed to be only 4k and ended up being 11.3k, it's a winter miracle and im going to bed now

…where was he?

_In an office._

…when was this?

_Year Two._

…why was he here?

_A hand, wizened and sallow, tapped a finger to the folder lying between them._

_“I am glad you came to me with this,” said the voice, chilling in its familiarity. “If true, these allegations are dangerous indeed.”_

_“But what do I do now?” he asked. Distress hung heavy in his eyes. “Master, this is my…these are—”_

_“Traitors to the empire. You know what to do with traitors.”_

_“Yes, but—”_

_The hand reached out, kindly patted him on the arm. “This may be difficult to hear, my boy, but you have done the right thing. And you will_ do _the right thing. This is what you have been preparing for, no? I am just sorry that it is so personal. But you must remember this, Caleb Widogast. Personal is not important. Your goals, your mission, must take precedence over all. Do you understand me?”_

_“I—”_

_The hand grew a little more forceful._

_“Do you_ understand _me?”_

_“Yes, Master Ikithon."_

_“Very good.” He sat back. “Now, tell me, Caleb, how are you doing? Are you alright? Is there something the matter?”_

Caleb blinked. “Er… _was,_ excuse me?”

 _“Are you okay? You’re spacing a bit, I’m starting to get a little worried. Caleb? Mister Caleb?_ Hey, Caleb!”

He jolted awake, flinching hard as he did.

“Ah,” said Caduceus, and pulled his hand back slightly. “There you are. Is everything okay?”

Caleb blinked again, shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “ _Ja…ja,_ I am fine,” he murmured. Then he paused, and looked quickly around the hall. “Is there…did you see that man, who was speaking to Beauregard and Yasha? Where did…where did he go?”

Caduceus followed his gaze across the party and towards the buffet table, which had gradually grown quieter as the evening went on. Only a few stragglers remained now, attacking the shrimp cocktail with gusto, with no sign of the man that Caleb had mentioned. Caduceus did manage to spot Beau and Yasha, however, standing off to the side by the window that overlooked the arena.

“They’re alone, right now,” he murmured. “Why, who were you looking for?”

Caleb grimaced slightly, but did nothing to explain. “Nevermind,” he muttered instead. “I just—I thought I saw someone I knew. But…nevermind.”

“Is it someone you want to talk to?” he pressed gently. “If so, we can try to find—”

“ _Nein!_ ” Caleb shouted, and then faltered when a couple faces glanced over. He quickly waved his hand, pulled his hood up over his face. “ _Nein_ , no, it is fine,” he mumbled. “That person is someone I have not thought about for quite some time, anyhow.”

“Not so much of an old friend then, eh?”

Caleb chuckled darkly. It was a painful sound.

“No, Caduceus. Not a friend at all.”

“Do you, uh, do you still want to get some food?” the large firbolg asked carefully. “The table’s empty now if you’d like, or we can wait.”

“I do not want to inconvenience you,” Caleb sighed. “You should go eat. I do not have the stomach for that, at the moment.”

Caduceus shrugged, leaned back against the wall. “I can wait,” he said lightly. “We’ve still got the real party coming up in a bit, anyways.”

“You do not need to do this,” Caleb stared down at his hands. “I am not worth your going hungry.”

“Not worth?” Caduceus cocked his head. “That’s a funny thing to s—”

“Guys, guys, look at this!”

A veritable parade of shining faces and glowing colors marched up to the cushions where they sat, as Jester, Fjord, and Nott ran over with Molly at the lead. His eyes were so dazzling they could have lit the night sky, and together with Jester, he was carrying an enormous check that was practically the size of Nott’s entire body. It was light blue in color, had the city’s crest in the top corner.

Its total—the $150,000 they had fought so hard to achieve.

“Look at this beauty,” Molly sighed, angling it to the light as they approached. “ _Look_ at this, dears. Tax-free, processing fee-free, it’s _everything_ we need to get the Moondrop back up and running. Plus nearly $4,000 for each of us.”

He beamed at Caleb, and his smile was so loving that it hurt, so chilling in its familiarity.

“This is all thanks to you,” he murmured. “You brought me that flyer, you helped rally our friends.”

Caleb struggled to respond. He settled on, “ _Nichts zu danken,_ Mollymauk.”

Molly grinned, and dropped his corner of the check, and ran over to sweep Caleb up in a hug.

“I have no idea what that means,” he laughed, “but thank you, you glorious Zemnian bastard!”

“You are— _oof_ —you are welcome. And…you are crushing my ribs.”

“Sorry, dear, sorry.” Molly cheerfully released his friend and brushed his jacket off. “Now come on, then, all of you!” he called, turning and waving his arms at the rest. “The Starosta wants a photo with us and this needlessly dramatic slip of paper! Apparently we’ll get the real money and stuff later, but right now the city needs a show. And I’ve never been one to deny _that_ , so come on! Come on, let’s get this done so we can go to the _real_ party.”

Molly slung an arm around Fjord’s shoulders and grabbed Nott by the hand, then ran off to go wrangle Beau and Yasha as well. Jester skipped after them with Caduceus at her heels, though the large firbolg did pause for just a moment to nod at Caleb.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he murmured. “If I’m being honest, you still look a bit like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Caleb searched deep within himself. He found a crumpled smile and smoothed it out across his face.

“I think I am just tired from our fight,” he said softly. “Do not worry, I will be there in a moment.”

Caduceus held his gaze for a long, long moment. And then he shrugged in temporary defeat.

“Alright, then. We’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

Caleb watched him walk off. And a few seconds later, as he gathered himself up and prepared to face his friends, he took one last moment to glance over his shoulder and scan the reception hall around him.

The figure was gone, now. But Caleb had a perfect memory. And there was no denying who he had seen, or how close they had come to meeting.

He fought down a shiver. He could feel the tide of his past, rushing up to meet him. He desperately tried to reach out for the moment, tried to cling for dear life along the precipice of his future—

—but with a sinking, dawning, flooding despair, he realized that his fingers, very quickly, were beginning to slip.

\--------------------------------------

Jester caught his gaze as they assembled together under the chandelier, the Starosta at one end of the group and Guildmaster Brigman at the other. Nott had affixed her porcelain mask to the front of her face, and Yasha shuffled around nervously. But that little blue tiefling, cheerful always, looked just about as excited as anything.

“Isn’t this neat?” she giggled, joy warm in her tone. “I’ve never been _this_ famous, before.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Molly called from across the way. “Though it does have certain upsides.”

“Are you not a criminal?” Caleb murmured nervously. “Are you not concerned someone will see your photo and come after you?”

She shrugged noncommittally as the photographer adjusted his camera. “I’m only banished from Nicodranas,” she explained. “This won’t be anything too bad, and besides, we’ve probably already been in the paper a bunch, by now.”

“ _Was_?” A jolt went down Caleb’s spine. “What do you mean? _How_?”

“We fought that crazy clockwork thing in the prison, remember?” she reminded him matter-of-factly. “And we also fought before that, at the Moondrop, with all those fancy people! Someone might’ve gotten pictures of that, you never know.”

 Caleb’s stomach churned. He turned back away, stared into the lens, and felt that sinking feeling grow stronger.

“Now…focus on the camera,” the photographer instructed slowly, “that’s it, that’s it, er…small green girl, shift over just a bit to the left, please, thank you. Ah, there we are, now say ‘cheese’—”

Caleb bit his bottom lip. Wedged between Yasha and Caduceus as he was, the shadows over his head still weren’t enough. So, as the photographer squared his shoulders and got ready to hit the trigger, Caleb waggled his fingers behind his back, felt the hum of magic taking hold—

“Cheese!”

The camera flashed. Caleb’s spell shimmered as it faded.

“Excellent!” the photographer gushed, and nodded brightly to the group. “This will do wonderfully. Thank you. And once again, congratulations on your victory!”

\--------------------------------------

“We just have to make one quick stop before our apartment,” Jester said, as they stood before the exit of this slowly-fading reception. “We’ll grab pizza on the way too, but first, Fjord, I need you to drive us all to the gnomish quarter.”

“The gnomish quarter?” Beau raised an eyebrow. “Why, what for?”

Jester reached into her bag. She produced a small box just about the size of her palm, wrapped in blue foil with sparkly snowflakes on the top.

She waved it around gently for emphasis. “We’ve got a special delivery to make,” she said. “We made a promise, and it’s not the sort that you can break.”

\--------------------------------------

“I’m so sorry, we weren’t expecting company! But if you’d like to come in, er, we can try to—"

“Oh no, please,” Fjord said, giving Gilda Shuster a gentle smile and raising his hands calmingly. “Please, we don’t want to interrupt your celebration. We were just stopping by, we have something for Kiri.”

“Plus candy for the other kids,” Nott said, holding up a sackful of chocolates and peppermint canes. “So that they don’t feel left out.”

Gilda’s gaze, already soft, instantly bloomed with excitement. “Ah, I see!” she chuckled. “Well then, hold on a moment, I’ll go bring her out.” And with a nod, she vanished back into the foyer.

The Mighty Nein stood on the porch to the Shusters Butcher for a few moments, admiring their holiday decorations. Glittering multicolored lights gleamed off the snow, strings of tinsel shimmered with the breeze. And this late into the evening, despite the ever-present glow of the city, they could make out a few stars, twinkling brightly far above.

When the door opened again, Gilda barely had a moment to smile at the gang before Kiri burst out in a flurry of feathers and excitement. Birds couldn’t exactly smile, but her eyes spoke of a joy that anyone could understand. She ran out into the night, feet clattering on the porch, and dove straight into Jester’s arms.

Her little knitted holiday sweater ruffled in the breeze as Jester laughed and spun both of them around. Then she put the little kenku girl back onto the porch and gave her a delighted pat on the head.

“Hi again,” she said, warmth in her soft tone. “We missed you.”

“A lot!” Nott added, running over to give Kiri a hug. “Like, _so_ much.”

“ _So_ much.” Kiri trilled. “We missed you.”

“It’s nice to see you again, kid,” Molly nodded.

“You are just as cute as you were before. Perhaps cuter,” Yasha added.

“Family treating you okay, still?” Beau asked.

“That’s so wonderful,” Kiri chirped happily. Her little wings practically vibrated with excitement. “We missed you. Welcome home from school, dear,” she added in her adoptive mother’s tone.

Beau immediately snorted. “You’re in _school_?” she asked. “Shit—sorry—shoot, how is that? Are you killin’ it?”

“She’s a very good writer,” came a different woman’s voice. “Her verbal skills are unique but extraordinary.”

Caduceus chuckled, a rumble warm and low. “You’re really something else, huh?”

“Yes, I’m very sweet!”

“That’s _right_!” Jester nodded furiously. “And for such a sweet girl like you, we have an extra-special present. Do you want to see it?”

Kiri didn’t bother vocalizing this one. Her chirps and trills rang through the winter air.

Jester laughed, pulled the little wrapped package from her bag and handed it over.

“This is from all of us,” she said with a wink. “But it’s _mostly_ from me.”

“Sorry to pull you away from the festivities,” Fjord said politely to Mrs. Shuster as Kiri began the delicate process of decimating wrapping paper with all the strength of an ecstatic child. “We know you must be busy celebratin’ the holidays with your family.”

“Nonsense,” Gilda chuckled back, and gave Fjord a pat on the hip. “It’s because of you all that we _can_ celebrate New Dawn together. And if I’m being honest, I’m quite glad to see you on Kiri’s behalf, too. She was rather worried you all wouldn’t be stopping by. She looks up to you all a lot, you know.”

“ _Us_?” Molly asked. “Gods, why _us_?”

Gilda’s smile grew. “Because you saved her,” she said. “You gave her a kindness—you gave this whole _family_ a kindness, when nobody would. That isn’t something you can forget.”

She walked closer, and poked him in the stomach. “You kids are heroes to quite a few people. And if the television program we just watched is to be believed, you’re about to be heroes to quite a few more. The Victory Pit, eh? New champions, and you didn’t even tell us?”

“We didn’t want to brag,” Fjord said sheepishly, “and really, it’s still settling in for us, too.”

Gila nodded warmly at him. “Well, I’m very happy for you all, but be careful, alright? We were a bit surprised and quite concerned when we saw that you were competing! I hope you knew what we you were doing, when you entered?”

“We’re badasses,” shrugged Beau. “It was fine.”

Mrs. Shuster gave her a good-natured roll of her eyes. “Well, as long as you’re taking care of yourselves.”

Fjords cheeks had gone slightly red. His smile felt soft, and he wasn’t sure why. “We…we’re trying, ma’am.”

“Gilda,” she laughed softly. “Call me _Gilda_. You’ve certainly earned—”

There was a faint _ting-ting-tingalingaling_ sound coming from the porch steps. They all glanced down, saw Kiri, and every single one of them beamed.

The little kenku was holding a small music box, made from cherry wood, with three silver birds dancing across its top. The sweet, gentle song twinkling into the air had Kiri’s eyes wide, had her voice humming quietly along.

“Oh,” Mrs. Shuster sighed. “It’s…it’s beautiful.”

The tune twirled above snowy steps, glimmered with the lights hanging high overhead.

“It’s beautiful,” Kiri echoed. She glanced up, met their eyes, paused on Jester, gave a nod.

“I am Kiri,” she said softly. “We…we are always thinking of you with love.”

She was pulled in for a hug, that all the Nein joined.

“That’s right,” Jester whispered. “We are.”

\--------------------------------------

The apartment—which they burst into excitedly, frost on their cheeks and snow in their hair—looked like it had been ravaged by a whirlwind cheer. Every available surface had been coated in confetti, nearly every inch of window and doorframe draped full of streamers. Balloons in the shapes of stars and nineteens—for the incoming 1019 P.D.—rubbed against the ceiling like bundles of metallic clouds. The kitchen counter now sported a rainbow tablecloth and a wide array of bowls ready to be filled with snacks; plastic cups waiting to house anything from alcohol to milk. Cushions and pillows were strewn across the living room floor to form a sea of comfort and relaxation, and Jester had even dragged a few beanbag chairs out from her bedroom and into the common area.

Now she was standing in front of her friends in the doorway, arms spread out wide and gleeful smile across her face.

“Welcome to the party palace!” she announced giddily. “Come in, come in, and don’t you dare get comfortable yet, because you’re all going to help me set up!”

They laughed and filed in, one after the other, wiping their feet on the welcome mat and kicking their shoes into the corner, piling the coat rack high with jackets and setting their festival winnings—the remaining splintered sword, two wicker cages containing rats, a strawberry plushie, a fifteen-foot tapestry, the most hideous doll in all of existence—off to the side. Beau and Yasha immediately went over to the fridge to help Jester unload drinks, as Fjord set the pizzas down on the counter and enlisted Molly in dumping bags of junk food into plastic bowls. Caduceus wandered into the kitchen to start making some tea, and Nott dove into the living room’s cushion-sea to find the remote, and the channel that displayed the King’s Hall New Dawn Countdown.

Caleb stood by the door for a few minutes, shuffling his feet and unsure of what to do. Then Jester looked up from the counter, called, “Hey! Hey, can you light us a fire?”

He nodded quickly, made his way into the living room and towards the fireplace carved out at the side by real estate developers of long, long ago. He gave Nott an absent pat on the head as he passed her, then crouched down in front of the logs, rubbed his palms together, breathed in a slow breath, and let the incantation trip off his tongue as it had done so a thousand times before.

The embers danced from his fingertips and caught dry, crackling wood.

He stared at the flames as they started to grow. For the first time in all too short a time, he felt sick when the firelight spun.

And then the gang all swarmed into onto the couches behind him. He heard bodies sink into the cushions, arms shuffle against blankets, the _hiss_ of canned soda being poured and the warm burble of laughter, excited chatter, all winding together and growing like a rising brook.

He took a deep breath. He forced the faint grin back onto his face, and ventured over to the coffee table to find a spot next to Nott.

Her face was glowing. Her smile so bright it could blind.

“I think this is the best New Dawn we’ve ever had,” she whispered conspiratorially as he sat down. “I want to do this again next year.”

Despite the situation, he managed to chuckle. “Thinking about next year already, _spatz_?”

“How could I not?” she giggled. “I’m…I’m happy, Caleb. I didn’t—before this group, I was happy with you, of _course_ , but…this is a different kind of happy. And…I don’t want this one to end.”

She leaned out of her blanket-nest to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Aren’t you happy too?” she asked as she pulled away. “Don’t you miss, you know, having a big and happy family?”

There were flames crackling in the background of her silhouette. Caleb swallowed, and gave his answer:

“Every day,” he said softly. “Every day.”

Then Jester crouched down and shoved each of them a plate of pizza, right into their hands. “Eat up!” she called cheerfully, and skipped around to the others. “Come on, come on, don’t hold back! We ordered _way_ too much, so don’t be afraid to have extras.”

Nott’s eyes instantly grew to the size of saucers. She stole a piece of pepperoni from Caleb, reached over and grabbed a handful of napkins. “Will it be dangerous to eat too much and get drunk at the same time?” she asked carefully. “Because if you say I can, I’ll eat it _all_.”

Molly tumbled across the back of the sofa, tripped right over the cushions and into Yasha’s arms.

“Who cares?!” he shouted, and raised a glass of semi-spilt wine into the air. “It’s the holidays, it’s the new year, there’s no time to be worried!”

“Please be careful,” Caduceus said, though there was a trace of laughter in his tone. “You wouldn’t want to get hurt on such a special night.”

“If I got hurt,” Molly grinned, pausing to take a swig, “if I got _hurt_ , my dear cleric, you and Jester could just heal me! And it would only make the stories we tell about tonight, even better!”

Beau, from Yasha’s other side, immediately leaned forwards. “If you want me to break your arm or somethin’,” she said gleefully, “you won’t even need to _ask_.”

“No!” Jester ran around the couch to shove a pizza peace-offering into Beau’s hands. “No, don’t do that, it’s mean to hurt people during the holidays! And anyways,” she added somewhat sheepishly, “I’m _completely_ out of spell slots. I used them all up during our fight.”

“Which, I _must_ say,” Fjord grinned as she dropped down onto the armrest of his sofa chair, “that was probably some of the _coolest_ battle-magic I’ve ever seen, Jes! I mean, what even _was_ that craziness, with all the black cracklin’ stuff on your hands?”

“Oh, that?” She waved an arm around dismissively. “That was just a new spell I learned, after we fought the weird thingy in the prison. It’s called ‘Inflict Wounds,’ it’s really nasty.”

“It looked pretty terrible,” Yasha nodded appreciatively. “I mean, not in a bad way. In a good way. Not good for the person you are killing, but, er, good for us…” she trailed off awkwardly, rubbed the back of her neck. “It was cool.”

“Thanks,” Jester beamed, and gave her a pat on the arm. “I thought it was pretty sick.”

“ _And,_ ” Beau grinned, raising her beer towards Caduceus, “thanks to our new friend, you didn’t even have to waste spells on healing us! You got to just be a fuckin’ _tank_ of magical terror!”

“It was _so_ cool,” Nott agreed. “You’re really tough when you want to be!”

Jester glowed under their praise. “Aw, you _guys_ ,” she giggled. “You’re being too nice.”

“No we are not,” Yasha said firmly. “And if that was the case, it would mean you are always too nice to _us_. So, really, we are just returning the favor.”

Jester shook her head and quickly changed the subject, though her smile never really faded. “You guys, you guys, you should stop talking, and eat more pizza! You can tell me how much you love me later, if you want, but right now our food is getting cold! Go on, now, dig in!

\--------------------------------------

About an hour was all it took for the gang to demolish nearly five boxes of pizza, Nott heralding the charge with Yasha and Molly as close runners-up. And when the last crusts hit paper plates and the gang all took a moment to remember what it was like to be civilized, Fjord leaned back against the armrest of the sofa and grinned to his friends all gathered around.

“So, should we start on presents soon?” he asked, semi-sheepishly. “I gotta admit, havin’ all our gifts here and not being able to open them is really starting to get to me.”

“Oh shit, no, wait!” Molly quickly disentangled himself from the couch and leapt to his feet. “Wait, wait, before we do that, I have something to say.”

He climbed up onto the coffee table, bowed his head low and almost spilled champagne all over the carpet. He recovered rather impressively, though, and stretched his arms out to encompass the whole group.

“I promised you all a speech!” he declared. “I promised you a speech, because you all _bloody_ deserve one, after what you’ve just done for me. And for yourselves, of course, but also for me. Because, my dears, my _dearest_ friends—"

“Only friends!” Beau interrupted with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t flatter yourself, Tealeaf!”

“My _only_ friends,” he corrected, rolling his eyes. “We are all gathered here today to welcome the virginal new year—”

“Ew,” said Nott.

“—into our hearts and souls. But we are also here, my dears, to celebrate these last eleven months, and to cherish the times that we’ve had together. I’ve said it before—and I’ll say it again, because I’m starting to get just a tad bit tipsy—but you lot are _everything_ to me. Everything that we’ve accomplished together, and all the moments we’ve had, well. I couldn’t have asked for anything more precious in my life.”

He raised his glass slowly, and turned towards Yasha. “You, my dear, are my best friend, and an amazing listener, and the amount of times you’ve taken a hit for me is nearly criminal. I don’t ever want to imagine my life without you, and I don’t know how you’re so bloody strong, but keep it up, dear. There’s no one like you.”

“I will try,” she chuckled. “And the secret is to just eat a lot of meat.”

“I’ll keep that in mind!” he laughed, before nodding grandly at Fjord. “Dear,” he said warmly, “you snore like the gods’ own punishment on Exandria. You never remembered to put the cap back on the toothpaste. But you were a fucking wonderful roommate, and a damn good brother. I miss you, and Jester’s the luckiest girl in the world. But!” he added, swiveling around to face Caduceus, “ _he_ isn’t the only great roommate I’ve had. Your cooking is superb, your tea is delightful, and I can truly say that I don’t know where I’d be without you. I was in a lonely spot when you showed up, dear Caduceus, and I’m truly thankful to be your friend today.”

Cad and Fjord exchanged glances. Of solidarity, of fondness.

“Thanks, Mol.”

“Happy to help, Molly.”

The tiefling grinned slyly at Beau next, though he was only half-parts sarcastic in his tone. “I hate you,” he said, words sweet off his tongue. “You’re annoying, and terrible, and I’d never trade it for anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She took sip of beer to mask her blush. “You’re fine too, I _guess_.”

“Charming as ever!” Then Molly turned to Jester, declared, “And, of course we can’t forget you, dear. After all, you’re the reason why we’re all friends! And not just because you introduced us all together, but also for your cheer, and your happiness, and the way you can make us laugh, no matter what. Our lives are bright, and a lot of it is all thanks to you.”

“Hear, hear!” Fjord laughed, raising his beer. “I can drink to _that_ one!”

The gang all applauded, and Jester hid her face behind her palms. “Aw, you guys!” she cried again, waving her hands around. “You _guys_ , stop!”

“Never!” Beau said fiercely.

“She’s right!” Nott added after a swig from her flask. “You’re the _best_ , and there’s no arguing that.” Then she turned and grinned wickedly at Molly, demanded, “Do me next! I wanna see what you have to say about _me_.”

Molly rolled his eyes. “You know, I’m not sure if I’m surprised—”

“I’m drunk, anything can happen now—”

“—of course,” he chuckled. “Well, part of me wants to say something about how you’re a gremlin and just a tad annoying—”

“Well, okay—”

“— _but_ ,” he waved a finger, “that wouldn’t be the entire truth now, would it? You helped me in a very big way when I was struggling to do something you knew was important to me. You can be a bit prickly and quite a lot overbearing, but you also care deeply about all of us. I thought you were nothing more than a stubborn child. But I misjudged you, dear.” He bowed his head deeply. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Nott raised her flask. “Buy me more wine,” she said solemnly. “That’d do it.”

Molly laughed, gave a wink.

And then he turned to Caleb with a smile, with _that_ smile, so bright for him always, so soft against the fire.

“I don’t want to keep telling you the same thing over and over,” he grinned. “Otherwise I’m worried it’ll stop being meaningful. So I’ll just say, ‘thank you,’ and I’ll just say, ‘you’re wonderful,’ and I’ll just—” he faltered slightly, “—I’ll just add that I appreciate you more than I ever could have imagined. And I’ll just pray that that’s enough, eh?”

Caleb forced himself to smile back. “It is,” he murmured. “And as I said before, you do not need to thank me, anyone would have—”

“But that isn’t _true_!” he countered quickly, shaking his head and spreading his arms back out. “Honestly, to _all_ of you, I _never_ would have expected you to join me in doing something as dangerous as entering the Pit. And even though I know many of you also had a stake in restoring the Moondrop, and I know it was a home to many of you as well…I still would like to thank you. That competition was dangerous. It was _deadly_. And for us to have survived it at all, for us to have survived it _together,_ I think that speaks volumes about our skills, _and_ our friendship. And,” he continued softly, “for us to have _won_ , for us to now be here now, together, tonight, well...”

He bowed his head, he raised a glass.

“To us,” he grinned. “To us coming together. To us being friends. To us, to everything we’ve accomplished this last year, and everything we’ll do in the next. I love you, Mighty Nein, and I never thought I’d be so lucky as to have you. Hear, hear.”

“Hear, hear!” the gang echoed, laughed and thrust their drinks to the air.

Fjord chuckled as Molly made his way back onto the couch. “Good speech!” he teased. “Did you write it yourself?”

“Did you practice it in the mirror?” Beau added cheekily.

He stuck his tongue out at her. “As a matter of fact, I did not. I just happen to be in tune with _my_ feelings, dear. I don’t need to rehearse to say heartfelt things to my friends.”

“He is just soft,” Yasha nodded to a chorus of laughter. “He is good at this sort of thing.”

“Quite good,” Caduceus grinned. “I’m feeling the love too, and I’ve only known you guys for a few weeks.”

“These must have been some _wild_ weeks, huh?” Nott giggled. “I mean, did you ever think anything like this would ever happen when you moved here?”

Caduceus shrugged. “I didn’t really know what to think,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure _what_ would happen.”

“That’s not a bad approach to life,” Beau mused. “If you never expect anything, you’ll never be surprised.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly the case,” Fjord said, sighing and poking contemplatively at an abandoned pizza crust. “I’m pretty sure the _opposite_ would happen, there.”

“And also,” Yasha added matter-of-factly, “I am sure that anybody would be surprised about us entering a crazy competition, where we fought some sort of abomination, some wolves, and a whole giant, and survived without any casualties.”

“You need to have more confidence in us!” declared Nott the Drunk. “We _killed_ that competition! Literally, we did a bunch of murder and it was _awesome_!”

“I like you like this,” Beau lifted her beer bottle towards the joyous, frothing goblin. “We should get you drunk more often.”

“We probably shouldn’t do that,” Jester giggled, “it’s not good for your liver.”

“ _Fuck_ my liver,” Nott said, and took another swig. “Come on, come on, bring out the hard liquor! I wanna get _fucked_ up.”

“We don’t have hard liquor,” Molly sighed. “Jester and Yasha vetoed it.”

“They _what_?”

“Should I cast calm emotions on her?” Caduceus suggested. “Just say the words, I have a few slots left.”

Molly laughed and clapped a hand against the firbolg’s back. “Save it for later,” he said cheerfully. “The night is still young, you never know what could happen.”

“Speaking of the night being young,” Fjord said, raising his hand again, “about my earlier suggestion? To start opening presents…?”

Jester was instantly back on her feet. “Let’s do it!” she cheered. “Let’s go get some gifts!”

\--------------------------------------

“Oh my gods!” Nott gasped. She had settled down just slightly (on her own) and was now balancing a large basket between her knees. “Fjord, this is _awesome_! Where did you _get_ these?”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. “From a few of the specialty shops around the Pentamarket,” he explained, watching Nott dive into a heap of gourmet sausages, cured meats, some fancy jerky, with gusto. “Most stores carried what I was lookin’ for, but a couple of those I had to order online. But it’s all fresh and high quality, so don’t worry about—”

“You can _order_ sausages online?” she interrupted, and held a package up to examine it closely. “Whoa, what _is_ this?”

Fjord peered in closer. “That’s, uh, that’s gator,” he said. “I think, anyways.”

“Is that _legal_?”

He shrugged. “If the police come ‘a knockin’, they’ll be after me and not you.”

Nott’s grin was so wide it split her face right down the middle. “I’m gonna eat _every_ animal,” she said breathlessly. “It’s a New Dawn _miracle_.”

Then she turned, and for the first time since they’d ever known each other, ran over to give Fjord a big hug.

He looked shocked when she buried her face into his chest. “Thank you,” she said, muffled against his shirt. “I _love_ it.”

He found himself smiling as he patted her on the back. “No problem.”

Jester produced her present next, flounced around the coffee table with a giggle towards a very surprised-looking Caduceus.

“Here you are!” She plopped a large circular box into his grasp. “Happy New Dawn!”

“Aw, _Jester_ ,” his voice was low and soft, “Jester, you didn’t have to. Well, you _did_ have to, but—”

“Just _open_ it!” Beau groaned, throwing her hands up into the air. “Come on, come on, _some_ of us want to see what _we_ got too!”

“Don’t be such a dick,” Molly sighed. “Caduceus, dear, take all the time you—”

Their firbolg friend had unwrapped the box. His large, fuzzy hands recached in past the wrapping, past the carboard, and then a faint smile broke across his furry face.

He took the hat—a simple straw ensemble with a pink silk ribbon—and placed it gently atop his head.

“How do I look?”

Jester clapped her hands with delight. “You look _so_ cute!” she gushed. “And this way, you can be fashionable, _and_ it’ll protect you from the sun when you’re gardening! There’s a spade and a watering can in the box too,” she added, “also for gardening stuff.”

He took those out as well. The can had a sunflower hand-painted on the side. The spade, against all expectations, was pink.

“I had it specially done,” she explained. “I thought you’d like that.”

His eyes were shining. His bottom lip trembled.

“I do,” he said quietly. “I love it.”

She squealed, and gave him a quick hug.

Beau stood next as Jester pulled back and returned to her seat on the couch. She swiveled towards Molly, and without saying a word, threw a paper shopping bag at his head.

He managed to catch it, and raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he asked. “This seems…ominous.”

She gestured for him to look inside.

What Molly saw, and what the rest of the gang witnessed as he shed the outer layer of containment and raised his gift up to the light, was…was…

It was a sweater, in the kindest use of that word possible. This garment, in a way, did seem to at least capture _some_ of the essence of what a sweater was supposed to do, which was, i.e., to keep a person warm. But unfortunately, due to some incredible lack of critical thought and foresight on the part of the designer, this sweater was functionally incapable of fulfilling its intended purpose.

Not only was this garment completely backless, which the Nein realized as Molly slipped it on down across his horns and spun around, but the pattern of the garment itself was also so horrible, so vile, so aesthetically incompatible that no matter how cold the weather, how terrible the snow, no person in their right mind would ever wear it.

To describe what the group saw would not do this item justice. Instead, it would be far more accurate to relay the emotions that suddenly ran through their minds. This garment invoked fear. It invoked revulsion. It somehow seemed to have been made of colors that in no way would ever match, while also containing swirls and shapes so convoluted and confusing that tracing them across Molly’s arms and chest instantly gave them a headache. This sweater screamed for attention the way a child threw tantrums. It demanded tribute like an elder god calling for blood. If early man had tried to wear this sweater in the depths of frozen tundras, in the shroud of ancient nights, they would have been mauled to death by wolves and the gods wouldn’t have even shed a single tear.

But in that moment, at this time, Molly did. He raised a finger to his cheek and brushed it gently from his face.

“It’s perfect,” he whispered, nodding slowly to Beau. “It’s…it’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re welcome.” She wore a grin, broad across her face. “You are _so_ welcome.”

He ran over to pull her into a hug, which she reluctantly accepted.

“Happy New-fucking-Dawn,” he said softly. “I’ll wear this to your funeral.”

“You’d better,” she snorted. “But also, take that thing off if you’re gonna keep touching me, I found it buried in a thrift store and I definitely didn’t wash it before giving it to you.”

He pulled back and started wrestling the sweater over his horns. “I’ve had worse before,” he said sarcastically, muffled through some terrible fabric. “I _was_ just touching you, after all.”

Beau stuck her tongue out, but quickly retracted it as Yasha handed her a box.

“This is for you,” the large woman said softly. “Happy New Dawn.”

Beau went instantly silent. She stared at the wrapping paper, which had tiny red flowers on it. She looked up at Yasha.

“Wait, you…you had _me_?”

Yasha nodded. There was a faint pinkness to her cheeks. “I, ah, I hope you like it. It is also clothes—wait, should I not have said that? I, er…fuck.”

Beau gently peeled the paper open. Behind her, Fjord, Jester, and a freshly-emerged Molly were having a silent fit. Caduceus and Nott looked mildly impressed.

“I hope it fits properly,” Yasha added, fidgeting slightly. “It’s, um…it reminded me of you.”

Beau slowly tugged her gift free from its wrapping. Draped between her hands was a sea-spun cardigan, knit stitches so fine they could’ve been made from mist. It seemed to shimmer under the warm firelight, a pattern of calm blues and pale greens shifting like slow waves across the beach.

Beau held it up to her face. The yarn was soft, like clouds in the morning sky.

She stared Yasha. Her face was unknowable.

“This…reminded you of _me_?”

Yasha shrugged, then seemed to regret shrugging. “It, er…it was pretty. And…nice. So…yes?”

Molly, in the distance, punched his fist so hard into the air that he almost killed Jester’s lamp.

But Beau’s eyes were fixed on Yasha. Her hands slid across the gentle knitting.

“Nice,” she echoed, seemingly to herself. “…pretty.”

Yasha looked torn between agreeing wholeheartedly, and running away in a panic. She settled for a nod.

And then Beau’s face broke into a slow, dopey smile. She reached out, and with only a slight hesitation, laid her hand on Yasha's shoulder. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I…I love it.”

Yasha’s smile was nearly impossible to read. It seemed half-parts delighted, half-parts relieved. A touch full of excitement, with the smallest twinge of grief. But still she put her hand against Beau’s, brushed their fingers together in the quiet.

“I am glad you like it,” she whispered faintly. “Happy New Dawn.”

There was the briefest silence afterwards, electric in words unsaid. And then Nott barreled into view with her flask in one hand and the other waving around manically.

“Caleb, you should go next!” she declared, borderline yelling. “You worked _real_ hard on your present, right?”

All eyes turned swiveled him. And after a few seconds to process the words, he jolted back to reality and nodded slightly. “I, ah, yes, I did,” he said hastily. “Here, er…here, hang on, where did—”

Nott reached under the coffee table and handed him the gift. They had wrapped it together, just a few days ago, in shiny gold foil.

“Thank you,” he said softly, taking the box with care. “Here, this one is for Jester, it is—”

“For _me_?” Jester’s eyes had lit up like bonfire. She threw herself up from the couch towards Caleb. “This one is _mine_?”

“Er…yes,” he said, handing it over, “yes, it is…well, it is homemade, so I hope it is to your standards.”

She squealed, which was not what he was expecting. “Home _made_? Aw, Caleb, that’s the sweetest kind of present you can give.”

“Is…is that so?”

She dove through the paper, ripped open the box, and then her eyes went wide and she reached in to investigate.

She pulled out a small glass jar, full of a viscous black substance.

“Ink?” she asked, tilting her head. “Is that what this is?”

He hesitated, and made a so-so-gesture with his hands. “Kind of,” he said slowly. “It is, ah, it is actually paint, but I enchanted it. And the other jars inside. If…I think if it is right, though I also could have made a mistake—”

“You never make mistakes,” Nott said loyally. “I’m sure it works just fine.”

He gave her a wretched, pleading look, that she completely missed in her drunken cheer. “Well, it is still possible,” he amended softly, turning back towards Jester. “Ideally, what will happen, is that when you use this ink, it will turn into whatever color you desire—”

Jester screamed, and it took Caleb a second to realize that her cries were from happiness. “It does _what_?” she screeched gleefully, and didn’t pause to let him answer. “You did _what_? Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, that is _so_ cool! Oh my gods, oh my gods,” she set the jar aside and threw herself into his arms, nearly smacking him senseless with her horns as she did. “That is _so_ cool!” she cried again, and mashed her cheek against his chest. “I don’t even care if it doesn’t work, that’s _amazing_.”

“It’s a very thoughtful gift,” Molly agreed from the background, arms crossed with a faint smile across his lips. “Mister Caleb, that’s very sweet of you.”

“It—ow, Jester, my ribs—it was nothing—”

She leaned back and bopped him on the nose. “You say that a lot, silly-billy, but you should know that’s not true! The stuff you do isn’t nothing. It’s _really_ nice.”

The corners of his lips quirked upwards. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Jester had pulled back and sprinted away—off to her bedroom to find some paper—too quickly to notice.

There were a few clattering sounds in the distance, a couple muffled swears in Infernal.

“Here,” said Caduceus as they waited for her return, reaching into his pocket and turning to Fjord. “You can get your present in the meantime. You were excited for this, right?”

Fjord’s cheeks flushed slightly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, well, no, I mean—”

Caduceus pressed a small green pouch into the half-orc’s hands. “This is for you,” he said cheerfully. “It’s also magic, but it’s not homemade.”

Fjord’s eyes went wide. “It’s… _magic_?” he repeated, and the firbolg just nodded.

He stared down at the pouch. He reached a hand in, felt around, blinked with surprise and produced a silver ring just about big enough his index finger.

“I hope you aren’t proposing to my boyfriend,” Jester giggled as she re-entered the living room with a sketchbook in hand. “I mean, I understand the appeal, but he’s taken, Caddy.”

The big firbolg just chuckled, shook his head. “Fjord’s a nice fellow, but that wasn’t really my intention.”

“Good!” Molly chimed in cheerfully. “Because Jester would’ve had to kill you, and I don’t want to have to find _another_ roommate.”

Fjord slipped the ring onto his finger. He held his hand up to the light. The gang waited, with baited breath, for something to happen; maybe a flash of light, a fizzle of sparks, an otherworldly chime or primordial cry, but even after a few seconds went by, there was still…nothing.

“You need to meditate on it for twenty minutes,” Caduceus explained, when all eyes turned towards him in confusion. “But afterwards, as long as you don’t take it off, that ring _should_ allow you to control water.”

There was a moment of silence, from everyone in the room. Fjord’s mouth opened. It closed. It opened again. It closed once more. Then:

“It lets you do _what_?”

“I can control _what_?”

Caduceus calmly raised his hands. “It only works once a day,” he said, to an audience of incredulous faces, “but I was told that it _does_ work. The enchanter I saw was very, ah, trustworthy.”

The shock on Fjord’s face gradually faded to disbelief, and then to amazement, and then to slow, creeping, unbridled wonder. He turned towards Caduceus, eyes shining with excitement.

“Thank…thank you,” he breathed. “This is _incredible_.”

The firbolg beamed his wide, floppy smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Now I’m almost embarrassed to give my gift,” Nott said, sighing and going in for another swig of wine. “It’s not magic, or anything.”

“Now, now, don’t say that, dear,” Molly chuckled. “I’m sure to…a _certain someone_ , it’ll be just magical enough.”

“That was really cheesy,” Nott said, but ran around the couch with a spring in her step to fetch the gift nonetheless. When she emerged, she climbed up onto the armrest and stared directly down at Yasha, a strangely-wrapped object clutched clumsily in in her arms.

“This is for you,” she said, ducking around the present to make her face visible. “Happy New Dawn.”

Yasha’s eyes went wide. She carefully took the gift, and Nott sat down beside her.

“Be careful,” the little goblin said. “I had to wrap it in a basket, so nothing would get damaged.”

The gold foil came tumbling down.

It revealed, to a chorus of confusion, recognition, ambivalence and wonder, a large potted plant about the size of a desk lamp. It was made up of a series of long green leaves that stood almost like branches, but segmented and flat like beetles in a line. The largest ones draped over the edges of the pot, the smallest poked through soil like tiny faces peering up from the dirt.  

Yasha examined it closely. Caduceus’s face had lit up. “Is that a—” he began.

“It’s a Merryfrond’s Cactus!” Nott said in a tone that was half-parts enthusiasm, half-parts nervous terror. “It’s, um…it doesn’t look like much now, but it’s supposed to have really pretty flowers in the early summer.”

“It’s supposed to have _beautiful_ flowers,” Caduceus breathed, and shuffled even closer. “It’s…gosh, I’m almost a little bit jealous. Where did you get this?”

“In the Pentamarket,” Nott grinned, beginning to preen under his rapt attention. “I thought it would be a nice present. Someone, um, someone you know told me you like flowers.”

Yasha glanced up. Her gaze caught a beaming Mollymauk and she rolled her eyes, then turned to Nott with a slow, tender smile.

She reached a hand out, brushed her finger against the leaves.

“I will take good care of this,” she said softly. “When the flowers bloom, you are invited to my home.”

“You’ll have to _be_ home to see them,” Jester giggled. She had set her drawing pad aside now, was leaning over the back of the sofa. “Otherwise you might miss it!”

Yasha’s gaze flickered—just briefly—over Beau. Said monk was busy trying to unjam her thumb from the mouth of her beer bottle, but the delicate cardigan still lay across her shoulders. She hadn’t put it on yet, but she also hadn’t let it leave her side.

“I plan…” Yasha chuckled softly. “Yes, I plan on being around when it happens. Do not worry. And…thank you, Nott.”

“No worries!” the little goblin beamed. “Happy New Dawn!”

“Hey, Mol, _you_ still haven’t given your gift yet, have you?” Fjord asked, pausing in his examination of the ring to turn to Molly. “Who’d you have?”

‘Well, well, it _should_ be for Caleb, right?” Jester grinned, waggling her eyebrows in anticipation. “Since he’s the only one who hasn’t gotten a _gift_ yet, right, Caleb?”

He blinked at the sound of his name. He looked around, seemed to realize again where he was. “Oh.” he said softly. “Er… _ja_ , that appears to be the case.”

“Well!” Molly skipped over to plop down onto the corner of the coffee table in front of Caleb, “don’t you worry about that, dear!” He vibrated with a strange sort of energy. “I have—well, I certainly _hope_ that I have—the _perfect_ gift for you.”

Caleb’s brown furrowed. “Indeed?” he asked. “Well…that is very kind, er…thank you.”

“I haven’t even given it to you yet,” Molly chuckled, “hold your horses.”

He reached into his shirt, which was only marginally peculiar to these people who knew him so well, and produced a thin red envelope. He waved it around dramatically for just a moment, before handing it over to Caleb.

“Happy holidays, dear,” he said with a grin. “I hope, ah, I hope you like it.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. He’d been rather distant since the battle, which Molly had noticed and tried not to look too far into, but in this moment, as their fingers brushed together in the exchange, he saw the briefest spark return to those brilliant blue eyes.

His heart soared. Perhaps, then…perhaps tonight _would_ be the night.

He watched Caleb open the envelope with baited breath. His fingers were hesitant as they broke through glue, his expression growing puzzled as he found the gift within. He pulled his hand back, raised his arm, produced two slips of paper and examined them in the light.

“ _Leonore,_ ” he read slowly, “ _oder…Der Triumph der ehelichen Liebe_.”

His gaze snapped up to meet a pair of scarlet eyes. “But this is…this is…”

“Do you like it?” Molly asked. His teasing tone was rife with anticipation. “Is it, er…do you like it?”

Caleb almost won the battle raging within him. He reached up, brushed a lock of hair from his eyes.

“Molly…” he breathed slowly, “Molly…this is more than I ever could have asked for.”

“Do you like it?” came the question, one last time.

The smile fell short on his lips. He wanted to say, _yes_. He wanted to say, _of course._ He wanted to say, _more than anything._ He wanted to say, _I love it_. He wanted to say, _I love_ —

He managed to nod, very slowly. “I do,” he murmured. “I…truly, I do.”

This seemed to be enough for Molly, who tentatively reached forward and gave Caleb a hug. It was awkward, and it was clumsy, and it was much colder than the tender moments than they’d shared before, but Caleb didn’t pull back.

And for now, that was a win.

Then Jester interrupted the moment with a loud groan, tugging at the corners of her sleeves. “What _is_ it?” she demanded, rolling her eyes at the pair of them. “Come on, come on, tell us what those are!”

Caleb glanced over to Molly. The tiefling made a “go on,” gesture with his hands.

“This is a very famous Zemnian opera,” Caleb explained, and watched a number of his friends’ faces light up with understanding. “These are, ah…two tickets, to go see it, in a couple weeks. These are…” he suddenly turned around, face distressed, towards Molly. “These are _two_ tickets?”

Molly tried not to give too hopeful a response. “I figured it would be boring for you to see it alone,” he shrugged. “So, ah, there’s an option. If you like. To…bring someone along.”

“But, but,” Caleb glanced wretchedly around at his friends, “I would not want anyone to feel left—”

“Take Molly.”

“Choose Molly.”

“Pick Molly.”

“You should bring Molly!”

“I think Molly would want to go.”

“Look at that bastard, he’s dying to do it.”

Molly gave a faint grin, rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I think the peanut gallery has spoken.”

“I mean,” Fjord said, through a delighted grin, “it’s only fair. He’s the one who got them.”

“But, but…” Caleb hesitated. What was wrong with him? What was he doing? Why was he being so _stubborn_?

 _You know why,_ crept a familiar voice at the back of his head. _You know it’s because you don’t deserve this. Really, you owe it to them, to save them from_ you _while you still can_ —

“Are you sure?” he blurted out. “I do not want you feeling lost, it may not be interesting for you, you do not speak Zemnian—”

Molly chuckled. He put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

“No, dear,” he said, “but _you_ do. And this is a gift for _you_. I’d be honored to tag along, and I’m sure I could find a translation guide somewhere.”

The fight died on Caleb’s tongue. He nodded morosely.

 _How sad,_ sighed the voice. _Too weak to help your so-called “friends.”_

He tried his best to ignore it. The effort sort of worked.

He nodded to Molly, gently lifted the tiefling’s hand away.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly. “I…would like you to come, very much.”

Molly’s grin sparkled, though his victory was slightly dulled by concern. And as the rest of the gang started talking up a storm in the background, accompanied by a few shuffling sounds and clangs, Molly leaned in just slightly so his eyes were near Caleb’s, so their gazes were level, so the firelight spilled softly across both their faces.

“Are you sure, dear?” he asked carefully. “You seem a bit off, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Caleb shook his head. “As long as you are not bothered by me,” he mumbled. “As long as you can still stand me.”

Molly instantly reared back, frowned in bewilderment. “As long as I can _stand_ you?” he echoed. “Mister Caleb, what—”

He was cut off, by the sound of Jester making a lot of sound. She had propped her sketchbook up against some bottles on the kitchen counter, had uncorked one of the jars and completely coated her fingertips in a slightly-shimmery, somewhat-iridescent, black paint.

“I’m going to try it out!” she announced, eyes wide with excitement. “Come around, come around, and Caleb, get over here! I want you to see how _cool_ your present turned out to be!”

Beau was off the couch in a second, pulling Yasha along behind her.

“Er…do we need to be _careful_?” Fjord asked quickly. He was already at Jester’s side, though now taking a nervous step back. “Didn’t Caleb warn us that the paint could explode, or something?”

“Caleb’s a great wizard,” Nott said defensively. “I’m sure it’s fine. It’s fine, right?” she added, with a quick glance over to her friend. “I’m just asking, because—”

“Too late!” Jester cried gleefully. She shoved her paint-covered fingers against the page, and—

\--------------------------------------

The gang watched Jester add a simple rainbow next to the three dicks and four puppies she had already envisioned, squealing with delight as the ink glimmered and changed color under her hands. Caleb had let out a sigh of relief when nothing caught fire, though now he was kicking himself mentally at how little he had managed to do, how much harder he should have worked, how much more Jester deserved, and he couldn’t help but glance over at Fjord, still staring at the ring on his finger, nearly vibrating with excitement at how incredible _Caduceus’s_ gift had been—

A hand suddenly brushed against his shoulder. He turned, saw Molly, face still brimming with concern. “This might be an odd question,” he murmured, “but…were you hurt in the fight, at all?”

Caleb quickly shook his head.

“Well, then, er…I hate to keep asking, but…was my gift _really_ alright? Is it…do you _actually_ like it, because—”

“ _Scheisse_ , no, no, I love it very much,” Caleb sighed instantly, tapping his breast pocket for emphasis. “Molly, it is amazing, it is…truly, _much_ more than I deserve.”

The tiefling chuckled and shook his head. “Now, I don’t entirely think that’s true,” he said teasingly. “My dear Mister Caleb, I think you deserve _everything_. And, ah…there’s something I’ve sort of been wanting to tell you, for a bit now, and I…” he trailed off, then took a deep breath. “I was going to wait until after the countdown, but I’m…I’m a bit worried that you aren’t in the right headspace for this. Is… _is_ everything… _really_ alright?”

Caleb looked away, like the wretched thing he was. “Everything is… _ja_ , well, I think—”

He was interrupted for the second time this evening, though now by Fjord. Twenty minutes had come and gone, and the half-orc was now in the kitchen, screaming his head off.

All of them looked over, and about half of them started screaming too.

“ _OH MY G—_ ”

“ _I CAN’T BELIEVE IT WOR—_ ”

“ _That’s bloody amaz—_ ”

“ _Fjord, you’re a WIZ_ —”

Caleb and Molly exchanged brief glances. Caleb gave one last nod, Molly returned with a look that said, _this isn’t over_ , and then vaulted over the couch and ran away to join the others.

Fjord was standing in the middle of a crowd of his friends, next to a full sink—though it was getting less and less full by the second. This was because he had begun, very slowly, very carefully, willing the water to rise from the surface, to break from its form like a snake in the grass, wind above the counter and start swirling past the cabinets, past the fridge, across the sky.

“It only lasts ten minutes,” Caduceus warned, as he noticed what was happening. “Be careful not to get wet when that time runs out.”

“Yeah, right, sure!” Fjord called back, though nobody could be sure if he was really paying attention. His eyes were glued to the stream winding through the air, to the way the light bent and curved through the water as it spun. “I’ll, uh, I’ll definitely do that.”

“This is the best present he’s ever gotten,” Jester informed the firbolg, her hands covered in paint and smile soft with happiness. “Look at him, he’s like a little kid on the holidays.”

“Well, now,” Molly grinned, prodding the aquatic procession with the tip of his tail, “it _is_ the holidays. And it’s nice to get to act like kids sometimes, right?”

“That is right,” Yasha agreed carefully. She had placed her cactus up onto the counter and was now standing between it and Fjord like a sentinel. “But we should not have _too_ much fun.”

“No such thing as too much!” Nott declared, punching a fist—and her flask—up into the air. “Come on, come on, we’ve only got an hour left until 1019! Let’s party like we’ve never partied before!”

Molly ran up behind her, scooped her up by the legs and lifted her high into the air.

“Uncork another bottle!” he demanded. “Cover me in a shower of chips! Put on some music and let’s celebrate like we don’t even know who we _are_!”

\--------------------------------------

Someone, at some point, had cranked the volume up on the televised New Year’s countdown just as a holiday music concert had broken into full swing. And someone, at some point, had decided that this would be the perfect opportunity for an impromptu dance party. And a _lot_ of someone’s, all at exactly the point of gleeful intoxication, had immediately jumped into the empty patch of floor between the sofa-back and the kitchen, to do exactly that.

“Come on, come on!” Jester giggled. She hadn’t been drinking but there was still a warm flush to her face as she motioned for Caleb to get up and join them. “Come and teach us some weird Zemnian dances! I bet you know a bunch, come _on_!”

“We _know_ that he knows a bunch,” Beau said, rolling her eyes as she moved. “Remember when we all got drunk at the Hour of Honor? The guy was doing the School-platter for like, half an hour.”

“ _Schuhplattler_ ,” Caleb corrected weakly, “and I do not recall—”

“Come _on_ ,” Fjord grinned, throwing his arms into the air, “come and teach it to us sober this time!”

Caleb’s soul was withering in his chest. He gave them the most sincere smile he could find. “Perhaps later,” he said softly. “I am…still a little sore, from the fight.”

“Are you _sure_ okay?” Molly asked, pausing in the macarena to take a step closer. “You’re _positive_ you didn’t get hurt, afterwards?”

There was a brief flash of pale green light that enveloped the couch where he sat. For a moment, Caleb actually thought he had died. And then the glow faded, and Caduceus gave the group a shrug.

“He’s alright,” said the cleric. “No injuries.”

“Right,” Caleb nodded, mildly reeling from the shock. “I am fine.”

Molly gave him a soft grin. “Promise you’ll join us if you feel better?” he asked. “I’m determined to get at least one dance out of you tonight, Mister Caleb.”

The corners of his lips quirked up, and he felt awful.

“I promise,” he said. “You will.”

And then Nott tried and failed to do a backflip off the kitchen counter, landing half-intentionally in Yasha’s arms, and the attention immediately shifted away from him.

He sighed with relief. From where he sat on the sofa, from where he hadn’t moved all night, he nodded.

He watched.

He watched Jester pick Fjord up at the waist and lift him excitedly into the air, watched Fjord roll his eyes parts-embarrassed, parts full of love for his partner. He watched Beau leap up onto a barstool, wobble dangerously, before righting herself and doing a terrible uncoordinated dance above their heads. He watched Caduceus clap and give an awkward little shimmy of his own, which was instantly copied by Yasha, wearing the faintest giddy smile across her normally-stoic face. He watched Beau’s eyes shine with stars. He watched Nott laugh at them, and then get picked up and placed onto the counter for a round of dancing of her own. He watched Molly cheer her on, eyes dazzling, smile wide. He watched Jester start giggling, watched Fjord give a laugh, watched all his friends move in close and share this moment, together.

And from off to the side, framed only by the flickering of the television and the glow of the fireplace, Caleb watched. He watched them dance. He watched them sing. He watched them _love._ And in that moment, for once, for an eternity, he watched them just, simply, be happy. _So_ happy. So unbelievably, unattainably, heartachingly happy. And he thought to himself, as he’d thought many months ago, many lives ago, on thousands upon thousands of lonely nights like this:

 _Not for you, Widogast. Not for you_.

The words, sharp and awful and despairing as they were, felt right.

And maybe that was the worst part of all.

A cheer rang out from around the kitchen counter. Nott had successfully done the worm for all her friends to see.

And then, as the last song faded out, suddenly there came a loud series of chimes from the television:

_GONG…GONG…GONG…GONG…GONG…_

“It’s starting!” Beau called, pointing over towards the screen. “Shit, there’s only two minutes left!”

Jester instantly set Fjord down from a spin and reached out a hand to steady her boyfriend. “Let’s get back onto the couches!” she grinned.

The gang all followed her charge into the living room, bowls of snacks and still more drinks in hand, filing right back into their seats. Beau and Yasha collapsed onto the armchair together, Jester and Fjord claimed the other end of the couch, Caduceus plopped down on the cushions by Caleb’s feet, Nott grabbed a pillow and slid in at his right—

—and then Molly sat down next to him, handed him a glass of wine, and that smile, that joy, that quiet, glimmering _happiness_ , it was all too much for Caleb to bear—

“It’s happening!” Jester yelled excitedly, snapping everyone’s attention towards the screen. “Thirty seconds!”

Molly grinned. His shoulder against Caleb's burned like coals.

“I’m still not convinced you’re completely alright,” he murmured, slightly out of breath from the dancing and the rush. “But I do want to say, at least, that I’m beyond delighted to be here with you now.” He cracked a hopeful smile. “Ready to see what the new year holds?”

Caleb’s mind was somewhere else. He managed to nod, turned back towards the television.

The announcer on the screen flashed a blindingly cheerful smile, wore a festive wreath of holly around his neck. Laughed grandly as the audience began to stamp their feet.

“Twenty-five seconds!” Beau grinned, thrusting her drink into the air and using Yasha for balance. “Here’s to next year being not shitty!”

“Hear, hear!” the gang cheered. Caleb felt his fingers shaking around the rim of his glass.

“We should make a wish!” Jester declared. “All of us, when the year changes!”

Fjord tugged her in close, eyes locking onto hers. “I know what _I’m_ wishin’ for,” he murmured.

“I want a thousand dollars!” Nott declared, waving her flask around her face. “No. _No!_ Two thousand dollars!”

“Twenty seconds,” Caduceus noted. “Are we counting down?”

Molly leaned in towards Caleb’s ear. “What are you wishing for, dear?”

His breath felt like ash. Caleb mumbled something back in return. He couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to say.

“Hell _yeah_ , we’re countin’!” Beau declared. “Hell _yeah_ , get ready—”

“Ten!” The group all cheered together. On screen, the flashing lights and uproarious applause were making Caleb’s head swim.

“Nine!” they yelled, and he could feel his chest constrict. What was he doing here? Why was he with these people?

“Eight!” Caduceus laughed, and Nott struck a pose. What was the matter with him?

“Seven!” Jester grinned, smiling bright with her friends. He didn’t deserve this. He never deserved this, he was—

“Six,” Molly murmured, and his head was turning now. “Dear, what’s the—”

“FIVE!” the gang shouted. Nott’s flask went flying and Beau had leapt up onto the armrest.

“I am fine,” Caleb murmured. He just needed to get out.

“ _FOUR!_ ” the gang screamed. He just needed to get _out_ —

Molly whispered, “Are you _sure_?”

“ _THREE!_ ” their friends cheered.

“—you look a bit ill—”

_He just needed to get out—_

“ _TWO!_ ”

_Ready to see what the new year holds?_

Caleb shot up to his feet.

_No._

“ _ONE!_ ”

And in their joy, in their cheering, in their love and their warmth, in the light shining off their cups and the glimmer of the streamers and the band’s music on screen, in Fjord’s kiss to Jester’s lips and Beau’s wonder in Yasha’s arms, in the laughter Nott sang as Caduceus hefted her up onto his shoulders, in the love, and the warmth, and the cheering, and the _joy—_

Nobody saw Caleb push his drink aside. Nobody saw Caleb rush out to the balcony. Nobody saw Caleb nudge the door shut behind him.

Nobody, but one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the outline for this last scene has been sitting in my drafts since august, y'all don't know how STOKED i am to finally get this out oh my GOD. Also: ¯\\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯
> 
> Buuuuuut in all seriousness, thanks so so much for reading!! This chapter was also frickin' LONG, so I hope you forgive me for any typos there might be!! I'm workin' hard to hit the schedule (and next update will be SOON) and I really really appreciate y'all sticking through this story with me! As always, of course, Comments and Kudos keep me going!! between updates you can find me on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) and now on twitter [also as @sockablock!](https://twitter.com/sockablock) All my drabbles and such are on tumblr, if you need something to hold yourself over between updates!! 
> 
> <3333333333333333333


	25. Dark and Rolling Clouds Above

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year, gang <3

A pale orange glow spilled out from behind Molly as he leaned against the doorframe. Silhouetted in the light, there was a soft curve to his eyes. A faint warmth to his skin. A gentle question on his lips.

But he didn’t say anything. Not yet.

He raised a tattered brown coat and took a careful step forwards.

“Please,” Caleb sighed, glancing over his shoulder, “I—”

He hesitated. He stopped.

“It’s cold,” Molly murmured. “Just take it.”

There was a long, long pause. Then Caleb sagged in defeat. He accepted his jacket, slid it on slowly, then turned back around and leaned his elbows against the railing.

He sighed into the cold winter night.

“You are going to ask me what is wrong.”

Molly cracked a smile that no one else saw. He uncrossed his arms.

“No surprises from me, eh?”

Caleb snorted. “We have spent so many days together. No surprises. Not anymore.”

Molly chuckled, and dipped his head. “Mind if I join you?”

Caleb said nothing. He shifted to the side.

The air was still as Molly leaned past the balcony. Cheers rang heavy through the glass doors behind them, their friends laughing and rejoicing for New Dawn. But then there came a pause of confusion, the sound of startled yelping, more quiet and then whispers that drummed up a storm. With a roll of his eyes, Molly chose to ignore this—instead focused on the rush of distant cars, the sighs of far-off streets. The midnight breeze whistled softly through his hair, and the lilt of cheery music spun from somewhere far beyond.

And then Caleb looked up, out past the quiet rooftops.

“Can I speak honestly?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He nodded. He sighed.

“This is _wrong_.”

The music in the air gently faded. The roads eventually went still.

“Er… _what_ is wrong, dear?”

Caleb sighed again and hung his head over the railing. “All of this,” he muttered. “All of… _this_. This group, these people, _me_ being here…it is wrong.”

Clouds drifted past the moon.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Molly murmured a little hesitantly. “I think I might be missing something. _Why_ are you saying this?”

Caleb put his face into his hands. “Because it is the least I can do,” he mumbled through his fingers. “You all do not deserve me ruining things for you.”

“ _Ruining_?” Molly blinked and leaned back. “Caleb, _what_? You aren’t—you aren’t ruining anything!”

“But I _will_ ,” Caleb moaned, “I just _know_ that I will, I…I _always_ do! And you should not be near me when that happens, none of you should, you all deserve better than that.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” Molly said, though not unkindly. “Just…just…can you explain to me what’s wrong?”

“Everything,” came the muffled reply. “Even though I thought…I thought that perhaps this would be okay. I thought that everything could be alright. But I was an _idiot_ , was I not? I should never have tried to lie to everyone, to _myself_ , like this. Who was I kidding? This was so _stupid_ , I am so _stupid_ , why did I ever think that I could just forget? Why did I even bother? _Götterverdammt_ , you fool, all you were chasing was a dream. Sweet, but never to be.”

Molly got the distinct impression he wasn’t being spoken to anymore. He tried to reel Caleb back in.

“Dear, is…does this have something to do with the Victory Pit?” he guessed. “Is it related to our fight?”

Caleb looked up, and two piercing eyes cut sharply through the darkness.

“The pit?” he frowned faintly. “ _Was_ , what is that having to do with anything?”

Molly fought to stay afloat in unknown seas.

“I’m, er…I’m not entirely sure,” he said carefully. “You’re just…you’re not exactly giving me a lot to work with. Not that it’s your fault, just…” He tried a smile that fell on icy eyes. “You’re just saying things that I don’t think are true, and I’d quite like to know why.”

“Why,” Caleb repeated. “…why?”

“Er…yes, if that’s alright.”

Caleb stared into darkened alleys below. “Because I am horrible,” he murmured, like it was the only truth in the world. “I am garbage, and you all are _good_ people, who deserve someone much better than me.” He kicked the ground beneath him, socks scratched against cold wood. “You saw, back there, how happy everyone was. You saw how much _joy_ they felt! I could never have something like that. I could—” he laughed, “—I could never be loved, like that. You are good, _they_ are good. But…I am not one of them, or one of you.”

A telephone wire hummed softly overhead. Molly’s answer, a whisper on the dying breeze:

“Is _that_ what you think?”

“It is what I know,” Caleb sighed. “I know. Even though I _tried_ to be better. I _tried_ to be good. I tried to _forget_. But I remember everything, and the things I have done, those things can never be fixed.”

“They—” Molly began, and then he paused.

A dull memory, growing brighter, fizzled at the back of his mind.

“You…you said something like that to me once, didn’t you?” he murmured. “A—a long time ago, didn’t you say something just like that? You told me that you were nothing. And…you said you had nothing to offer.”

Caleb’s face flickered with recognition. “Er… _ja_ ,” he said, “I remember.”

Molly nodded slowly. He took the faintest step closer.

“Do you remember what I said next?”

Caleb hesitated. He shifted in the silence.

“I remember…that you laughed,” he said eventually. “I remember that you did not agree.”

“I still don’t agree,” Molly nodded again. “I absolutely don’t. But I’m not going to laugh this time,” and here he took another step closer. “I promise, I won’t. But…back then, after that…I told you that no matter what you thought about yourself, _I_ saw something else. Do you remember that? Do you remember how I said that you were a kind man? That I thought you had a good heart? You argued, right? You said—”

“We barely know each other,” Caleb murmured.

Molly nodded. “So I told you we could change that. And…we did.”

He closed the gap, fingers light on the snowy railing.

“We did it,” he murmured. “We got to know each other. And…I have never known anyone like I know you, Caleb Widogast. Granted, I haven’t exactly been around the longest time, but…in that short time, nothing I’ve ever had is like what we’ve shared. And…my life is _better_ for having you in it, my dear. I am more honest, and more open, and more _alive_ thanks to you.”

His eyes glimmered in the darkness. “You say you don’t deserve happiness,” he whispered. “You say you should go away. You think you can’t show love, and you think you can’t be loved. Well, my dear, I’m—I’m here, tonight, to show you that you’re wrong.”

Caleb’s head snapped back up. “ _Was_?” he said. “Wh… _how_?”

“You’re wrong,” Molly repeated. “You can be loved. Because, because…”

He took a deep breath, gave his words up to the sky.

“Because _I_ love you, Caleb Widogast. I have for a long time. I just never told you.”

The light of the moon washed soft across their faces. Rolling clouds hung dark above.

“I…didn’t say anything sooner,” Molly continued, when Caleb just said nothing, “not because I was worried about rejection, but…because I was worried you’d stop being my friend. And I didn’t want to imagine my life without you in it. But then I realized…I realized that maybe, this was something _you_ needed to hear. Especially…especially after what you just told me. And you don’t need to answer, and you don’t even need to love me back. I just…I just needed you to know that there _is_ someone out there who…loves you. Someone who cares deeply about you. And…and we can just figure it out from there.”

In the silence that followed, Caleb was still. He stared at Molly. He gazed into a pair of shining, hopeful, crimson eyes.

And then, he stared to laugh.

Molly’s smile instantly vanished.

He took a step back—involuntarily—stared in bewilderment as Caleb doubled over. His shoulders shook, his fiery hair wild in the wind, and as he straightened up, met Molly’s gaze, he wiped a tear from the corner of those chilling blue eyes.

He shook his head, leaned hard against the railing. His voice, though light, held not a single trace of humor.

“You do not have to lie,” he said softly. “Molly, I _know_ I am pathetic, you do not have to remind me.”

Molly blinked. _Hard_. “Ex… _excuse_ me?” he asked. His mind struggled to pull itself back together. “You…Caleb, _what_?”

The other man leaned back over the balcony. “You do not have to lie,” he repeated. “It will not change much, though I suppose I appreciate your effort. You are a good person, Mollymauk.”

Molly shook his head. He took another incredulous step back. He…he…

What was he supposed to do?

“You think I’m _lying_?” he breathed.

Caleb turned, raised an eyebrow. “ _Bitte,_ do not try to tell me you are not. I do not need pity right now.”

What was _anyone_ supposed to do?

“I… _gods_ ,” Molly murmured, “I _am_ being serious. You…why would I _ever_ lie about something…something as important as this?”

Caleb shrugged. “People do strange things for their friends. I should know.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes, well, strange wasn’t the word I would’ve chosen, dear. I just…I just _confessed_ to you, isn’t that—doesn’t that mean anything?”

Caleb sighed, and it felt like a knife to the stomach.

“It does not,” he said, “because I know it is not true. It is not _possible_ , I am trash—”

Molly threw his hands up into the air. “Not _this_ again!” His voice rang out in the night. “Enough, already, enough with that! Gods, Caleb, I’ve already said my piece a thousand times. You _aren’t_ trash. You _aren’t_ worthless. You are a fucking wonderful person, though I’m starting to almost not believe that right now, and you…you…you infuriating bastard, why can’t you just _see_ that?! Why can’t you just _believe_ me?! I—I told you that I loved you, and all you did was _laugh!_ ”

The night air stung at both their faces. An alley-cat hissed somewhere far below their feet.

Caleb bit his lip. He sagged against the railing.

“There it is,” he murmured. “I hurt you.”

Molly sighed, and the calm settled back like a blanket on his shoulders. “Yes,” he agreed softly, “you did. But only because you’re being so fucking stubborn. Is…is it _me_?” he asked. “Is it because you don’t…is it because you don’t feel the same way, in return?”

Caleb quickly ran his fingers through his hair. “Gods, Molly,” he mumbled, “gods, I don’t—I think—I do not even know anymore. It is just… _fuck_ , it is just…you can’t…we can’t…this is not for me, not for me at all. And…and…I cannot be the person you _want_ me to be, and I cannot be the person you _deserve_. This is…it is all very sweet, and very kind, but…gods, you should not be wanting _me_.”

Molly rushed up to the balcony, leaned over to meet Caleb’s gaze.

“But I _do_ ,” he breathed, words billowing through the chill. “Fucking hell, despite everything you think, and how you’re being right now, I _do_! I…like I said, I’ve wanted to be with you for a long time, now. And I think—well, I _thought_ that both of us were finally in a place where we could be. And even if we aren’t, that’s _okay_. I’m…” his voice broke, he pushed through, “ _I’ll_ be alright, but now I’m worried that _you_ won’t—"

Caleb shook his head. “Do not do that,” he said softly, “do not _worry,_ I do not deserve—”

“Stop saying that,” Molly sighed. “Stop _believing_ that. You think you’re the worst thing in the world, but you’re _not_.”

“I am,” Caleb whispered. “You do not know me like you think you do. You do not know the whole story, who I have been, what I have done.”

“I don’t _need_ to,” Molly protested. “I don’t _want_ to. Caleb, I don’t even know who _I_ used to be! But I don’t care! None of that matters! All that’s important is what we have now, _right_ now, in _this_ moment, and nothing _else_ should _matter!_ ”

“But it _does!_ ” Caleb shouted, pounding his fist against the railing and startling them both. “It _does_ matter,” he pulled his hand back. “I—I have _hurt_ people, Mollymauk. _Good_ people. I have ruined lives and crushed dreams, and I did it all because I _wanted_ to. Because I thought it was right. And now I am just…I am just broken. _I_ know that, why don’t you?”

“Because it isn’t true,” Molly said. “I think you’re perfect, the way you are.”

Caleb laughed again. It froze the air around them. “You still do not get it, do you? I am a _terrible_ person.”

“Wrong!” Molly yelled. “I don’t know how many times I have to keep telling you that! Fucking hell, it doesn’t matter to _me—_ ”

“It would if you knew the truth—”

“Well, then, what is it?” Molly demanded. “And—no, not even that—why do you refuse to _move on_ , from whatever it was?! It can’t be that bloody bad!”

“I cannot believe this,” Caleb said to the night sky. “I cannot believe you are still arguing with me.”

“I’m bloody _well_ going to keep arguing, if that’s what it takes—”

“Why can you not just accept that I’m not perf—”

“—because I think you _are,_ you idiot, I _care_ —”

“ _Scheisse,_ I am almost insulted by that—”

“—oh, so you’re insulted that I _care_?”

“What? No! No, it is that I am not _perfect_ , far from—”

“But you are! You are! It doesn’t _matter_ what you’ve done—”

“—you can’t keep _saying_ that, _it does_ —”

“—and why’s that? What’s so fucking terrible that you would—”

“ _I killed my götterverdammt parents, Mollymauk!_ ”

Cars streaked through the streets below. Distant rooftops groaned in the breeze, and somewhere, far away, shutters rattled with the snow.

“Oh,” said Molly.

Caleb turned. He threw his arms over the railing, hung his head and closed his eyes.

“It was a long time ago,” he murmured. “I was only a boy.”

Molly exhaled slowly.

“I made a mistake,” Caleb continued. “A…a terrible mistake.”

“Er…yeah,” Molly breathed. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Caleb sighed, and gave a nod. “Go on,” he said. “Say it. You understand now, yes? Nobody worth saving would have done something like that.”

There was moment’s pause. And then:

“Is that what you think?” Molly asked.

Caleb’s head shot up. “ _What_?”

“Is that what you think?” he repeated softly. “That you don’t deserve happiness, because of _that_?”

Caleb’s answer dripped with disbelief. “You think a murderer deserves _happiness?_ ”

“I think _you_ do.”

His eyes went narrow. “How…how could you _possibly_ say that?” he demanded. “How the _hell_ could you believe that?”

“Because…because…gods dammit, Caleb, look at yourself!” Molly cried. “Are you _really_ trying to convince me you’re a murderer? So…so that _did_ happen in the past. And, gods, yes, it’s terrible, I…I don’t even know how to discuss _that_ right now, but…but we don’t _have_ to discuss it! Don’t you see?” He smiled gently. “You said…you said it was a long time ago, and you said it was a mistake. And, gods, I’ve spent a lot of time with you—not that you need to, to tell how fucking _tortured_ you are—and I can see that you’re hanging onto your past like a lifeline, except it’s a lifeline that’s trying to _drown_ you! You…you _aren’t_ defined by the things that you did. And…yes, they were awful, and, _fuck_ , it’s terrible, and I’m sorry, really I am, but…but you’ve _clearly_ changed. You certainly aren’t the same person anymore, and that means you’re allowed to move on.”

Caleb stared incredulously into the face pleading back at him.

“How do _you_ know that?”

“Maybe I don’t,” Molly admitted. “Maybe I don’t. But it also doesn’t _matter_ what you’ve done, that doesn’t change _anything_ for me! You knew that, you’ve known it as long as we’ve been friends! The past means nothing, compared to who you are now.” Frost curled along his cheeks. “Maybe you _did_ do terrible things,” he said. “Maybe you _were_ an awful person. But the man that _I_ know, the man that you are _now_ , is a wonderful, brilliant, lovely, _kind_ person, who _I_ think deserves the world! So when you say you’re not worthy of having someone’s love, and when you say you’re worried about not being good, I can safely say that you _are_! You _are_. It’s…you weren’t kidding about the rough past, dear, but…that doesn’t _matter_. The man you are now, the man that I…that I love, he’s the version of you that I met all those nights ago in the Tri-Spires. _He’s_ the one that we all call a friend, and _he’s_ the one that only matters now.”

Caleb’s expression had gone blank. And in that moment, in that second, as their eyes met in the darkness, he sighed.

“Now you are just being ridiculous.”

Molly’s face went still.

“Excuse me?”

“You are being _ridiculous_ ,” Caleb repeated. “Are you _kidding_ me? I just told you that I _killed_ my mother and father, and you say that you do not _care_? That it does not _matter?_ That you think the man you met and the person I used to be are, are, are _separate_? Those _both_ belong to me, _verstehst_ _?_ Those are _both_ who I am! And if you say that you only met one, then the one you met was a _lie_.”

“Caleb, I—”

“That man exists no more than the guilt you refuse to believe I carry. He was fake. He was a _mask_. He was not real.”

A pause. Then:

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes!”

“…well.” Molly nodded slowly. “Well. That’s…a shame, Mister Widogast. He sure was real to me.”

Caleb stared at the eyes glowing softly in the darkness before him. Whatever he was thinking, whatever he felt, or believed, or thought he should say, he ignored.

“Stop lying to me,” he spat. “Stop lying to yourself.”

He pushed himself back from the railing. He shoved past Molly, threw open the balcony door.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled.

“Wait, what?” Molly blinked. “Where do you think—”

“It is late,” Caleb said. “I should be getting home.”

He strode out into the living room without so much as a backwards glance, yanking the screen door closed as he went.

Through the glass windows, Mollymauk Tealeaf watched Caleb pause in the low orange warmth of the fire. He watched the others look up, watched them smile. He watched Jester run up for a hug, watched Beau give him a grin, watched Fjord clap his shoulder, watched Caduceus and Yasha say a few words. Then Molly watched him nod, watched him murmur, watched him ruffle Nott’s hair, and move to the coatrack.

Mollymauk Tealeaf watched him yank his gloves on. He watched him find his boots, and step into those as well.

And then—from out in the biting winter, snow nipping at his skin and wind grazing his cheeks, the wet streaks down his face now stinging in the cold—Mollymauk Tealeaf watched Caleb Widogast grab his scarf, step into the hall, and pull the door shut behind him. 


	26. What He Needed Now

The door to his apartment slammed shut as he stormed in.

Caleb’s mind was reeling. What had that  _been_? What the  _hell_ had just happened? Why the  _fuck_ did he say what he did? And—gods, and  _Mollymauk_ , that  _idiot_ , what had he been trying to pull? What had he been trying to do? And even if that  _was_ the truth, why would he ever think that would have worked? Why couldn’t he see what was clear as day?

Without breaking his stride, Caleb threw his gloves against the couch and tossed his scarf off to the side, kicked his shoes across the floor and marched straight into his bedroom, eyes unseeing in the night.

Why didn’t Molly  _believe_ him?

He kicked the bedroom door shut too. Yanked his coat off, collapsed into bed, grabed his pillow.

He pulled it close. He closed his eyes.

Why would Molly say that he  _loved_ him? What did  _Caleb_ ever do, to deserve that sort of kindness?

He took a slow, long, painful breath. He reached inside himself, past the churning and the terror and the loathing and the hate, and found a smooth piece of quiet, welcoming exhaustion.

He breathed out. He let the darkness take hold.

Twenty minutes later, he opened his eyes.

The silence of this apartment was suffocating. The strange loneliness he felt, knowing his friends were all still celebrating together, even more so. And as much as Caleb wanted to bring Frumpkin forward and bury his fingers into his cat’s cur, he also didn’t want the familiar to say anything. Frumpkin had been frustratingly opinionated about Caleb’s decisions, lately, and he didn’t need that sort of thing right now.

No, what he needed, what he  _really_ needed, was someone who’d understand how he felt. Someone who would support him, in the decisions he’d made. Someone who would tell him that he did the right thing. Someone who’d agree with him, someone who  _always_ agreed with him, the one person he could always count on to tell him he was right, no matter what he did, no matter how he felt, no matter  _what_ anyone else believed—

What he needed, was Nott.

But he felt terrible pulling her away from the party. Tonight had already been ruined for two; he didn’t want to make it a third.

So maybe…maybe he could send her a text. Just to ask when she’d be home.

Yes, that might do it. Then at least he’d know how much longer he’d be alone.

Caleb he sat up. He pushed his pillow aside. He headed out into the kitchen, to the drawer beside the sink full of loose rubber bands, some twist-ties, a pair of scissors, a lone sponge.

And—tucked neatly away into one of the corners—a battered, out-of-date, generic-brand phone.

It had been at Nott’s insistence that they saved up and bought it. Of course, it had been sitting here completely unattended for about the last year or two, but hey. No time like the present.

There was certainly no time like  _this_ present. It was lucky Caleb was so good at compartmentalizing.

He grabbed the charger on his way back to the bedroom. He stuck the phone into the wall, left it on the ground, and collapsed back onto his bed just a few feet away.

He closed his eyes. For a few minutes, things were as close to peaceful as they would get.

And then:

_Ding._

Caleb frowned. What was _—_

 _Ding_.

He peeked one eye open and stared at his phone. Its screen had burst to life, a sudden supernova in the darkness.

 _Ding_ , it went again.  _Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding-ding-ding-ding-dingdingdingdingdingding—_

Caleb threw himself out bed and scrambled over. His cell was vibrating across the floor now, rattling its cord violently and dinging up a storm. He barely remembered how to use this thing, couldn’t remember at all how to make it shut up, but as the ringing pounded against his ears and his fingers slipped and the panic ran, he finally found a promising button along the side and quickly, desperately, pushed it down.

Everything—thankfully—went quiet.

The phone still shook and thrashed, but now it was noiseless. And after another minute of Caleb staring in horror at its bright and flashing screen, it eventually went silent.

It eventually went still.

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief. He gingerly picked his phone back up. He must have really underestimated the activity of those group chats. Nothing Nott had ever said could have prepared him for—

He paused. He frowned.

Written across the screen was a sequence of alerts. The first few made sense:

TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO (289 New Messages)  
Beauregard (18 New Messages)  
Fjord (9 New Messages)  
Jester (83 New Messages)  
Nott TB (21 New Messages)

Two were quite old, Caleb barely remembered what they were for:

MOVIE NIGHT FT. NEW FRIENDS NOTT & C… (28 New Messages)  
MOVIE NIGHT AGAIN, BECAUSE WE HAD S… (32 New Messages)

But the last one. The last one had come with no warnings, the last one made Caleb’s heart constrict, the last one made his lungs ache, made his muscles shake, make his mind grind to a halt with confusion and uncertainty and bewilderment and dread, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak, because the last one, the last one read—

Mollymauk Tealeaf

—and next to the name—

(351 New Messages)

For a minute that felt like a lifetime and a second, Caleb just sat there and stared. He almost considered yanking his phone from the wall, chucking it through the window, down onto the streets, never to be seen again.

But then he hesitated.

Slowly, so slowly, so incredibly, painfully slowly, he raised a hand.

He took a breath.

He pressed his thumb to the screen, swept the alerts to the side.

He hit:  _view texts._


	27. 351 New Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this calendar might help ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Kf9zyYeIR4LWxrBRALPD0vxgShp3J2kD/view?usp=sharing)

10/24/18 | 3:27AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:**  hey there!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i got your number from the movie chat haha  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  i just wanted to let you know how much fun I had tonight!  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  you have an excellent singing voice  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and we should absolutely do this again ‘(~˘▾˘)’~  
**Molly Tealeaf** : and maybe im being forward but if you ever want to talk about what happened w the electricity?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** also I still need to give you that jacket back, don’t i  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyhow you’re probably asleep now so i’ll talk to you later  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night mister caleb! 

10/24/18 | 10:26AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** good morning mister caleb!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i hope you slept well, sorry about all those texts last night!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i must’ve had a bit more to drink than i thought  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways, I just wanted to see if you were free anytime this weekend?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** there’s a lovely little coffee shop ive just been dying to try  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i think you’d like it! 

10/24/18 | 12:14PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** so if that sounds good, shoot me a text?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive got a flexible schedule any time before 6 dear

10/24/18 | 7:43PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** actually now that i think about it i wont be free this saturday  
**Molly Tealeaf:** its the 25th of the bar!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** tomorrow would be best then i can tell you all about it! 

\--------------------------------------

10/26/18 | 9:25PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** hey there mister caleb!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive been told now that you never actually will read these  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but i figured id stop by just in case you do!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i just wanted to let you know how excited i am that you’ll be seeing me sing  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for real I mean, not just karaoke while im drunk  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and yesterday  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it was a ton of fun!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you again so much for agreeing to get coffee with me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and lending me your coat  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i can’t wait for next time!! 

10/26/18 | 10:03PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:**  also, this means nothing to you but  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  eating thirteen lollipops in one sitting, no matter how amusing it is for everyone watching  
**Molly Tealeaf:** not actually that good of an idea as you'd imagine  
**Molly Tealeaf:** so, uh  
**Molly Tealeaf:** just so you know

\--------------------------------------

10/27/18 | 12:08PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** well, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** today’s the big day!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** gods, im a bit nervous if im being honest  
**Molly Tealeaf:** moreso than usual, and im not sure if its just because its a big event  
**Molly Tealeaf:** or, well, because you’ll be coming  
**Molly Tealeaf:** either way, don’t worry!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im delighted that you ARE coming  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I can’t wait for you to hear me perform!! 

10/27/18 | 6:02PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** jester says you’re on the way!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** gods im getting nervous again  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the family all want to meet you very, very badly  
**Molly Tealeaf:** theyd better not make a bad impression, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but im sure everything will go great! 

10/27/18 6:55 PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** hey, Mister Caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** enjoy the show <3 

\--------------------------------------

10/28/18 | 2:28 AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** well, what a mess eh, mister caleb?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im so sorry the night didn’t turn out the way id hoped  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and im sorry we ended up having to fight two insane monsters  
**Molly Tealeaf:** if im being frank, it was a load of bullshite  
**Molly Tealeaf:** an quite a bit happened that I really could have done without  
**Molly Tealeaf:** including that magic nonsense you were going on about earlier  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but hey!  
**Molly Tealeaf** : i AM still happy you decided to come  
**Molly Tealeaf:** perhaps i’ll get to sing for you another time  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and nice moves!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** where’d you learn to cast spells like that?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** don’t worry, I know I won’t be getting an answer ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night, sleep tight  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I hope my living room floor suffices!

10/28/18 | 3:22AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** well, my dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you are now friends with an official, 100% authorized former employee of the Moondrop  
**Molly Tealeaf:** actually, all of us are now former employees  
**Molly Tealeaf:** there’s some hard times up ahead, I suppose, but it’s fine  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i’ll be fine  
**Molly Tealeaf:** we should get some coffee together, I’ll fill you in!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** …  
**Molly Tealeaf:** except, well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** no phone

\--------------------------------------

11/2/18 | 8:03PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** what if i BUY you a phone

11/2/18 | 9:19PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** though I suppose financially that isn’t the best decision  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i did just say that I don’t have a job anymore  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and i guess not  _having_ a phone isn’t the issue 

11/2/18 | 10:13PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** maybe i could tape the phone to your face 

\--------------------------------------

11/3/18 | 4:22PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** i can’t BELIEVE you didn’t like  _Guard of My Heart_?!!!!?????  
**Molly Tealeaf:** THAT MOVIE IS ART  
**Molly Tealeaf:** we should kick you from movie night that would teach you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** though we’d have to kick out Yasha and Beau too, for not liking it either  
**Molly Tealeaf:** we can just kick out beau  
**Molly Tealeaf:** besides, that’s the only time ive seen you all week ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  
**Molly Tealeaf:** so i GUESS you can stay, for now 

\--------------------------------------

11/4/18 | 8:03PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** maybe i should ask Nott to ask you to get some coffee  
**Molly Tealeaf:** no wait she hates me 

\--------------------------------------

11/5/18 | 2:43PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** how BADLY does she hate me

\--------------------------------------

11/6/18 | 7:08PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** gods FUCK IM BORED

\--------------------------------------

11/8/18 | 12:03AM 

Molly Tealeaf sent a photo  
Molly Tealeaf sent a photo  
Molly Tealeaf sent a photo

 **Molly Tealeaf:** let it be known  
**Molly Tealeaf:** that on this day, the 7th of duscar  
**Molly Tealeaf:** YOU texted ME first, asking ME to get coffee with YOU  
**Molly Tealeaf:** PROVED by these screenshots  
**Molly Tealeaf:** look at that initiative! youre blowing me away, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** admittedly you did it through Nott  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and technically I guess it happened yesterday now  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but it still happened!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and it’s the thought that counts  
**Molly Tealeaf:** gods im only just realizing now how creepy this is  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I hope you don’t mind oh jeez  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but hey, at least you’ll never read this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive gotten so used to using this chat as a weird sort of diary  
**Molly Tealeaf:** plus this was such a rare moment, I couldn’t resist!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways, thank you for listening so well as always  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and feel free to ask me to steal fjord’s car whenever you need  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good night, dear, and sleep tight  
**Molly Tealeaf:** don’t let the goblins bite! 

\--------------------------------------

11/9/18 | 3:08PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** can i just say  
**Molly Tealeaf:** how EXCITED I am for this?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i cant WAIT mister caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i really miss you dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i wonder if you really miss me too 

\--------------------------------------

11/10/18 | 10:29PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** im lying in bed now thinking  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and gods,  
**Molly Tealeaf:** WHAT a wild thing that was, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you think you know a person, and BAM  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you find out they’re keeping secrets from you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** even though it hurts them  
**Molly Tealeaf:** isn’t that funny 

11/10/18 | 10:35PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** you know, ive made it a habit to never get involved with anybody’s shit  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because gods know ive got enough of my own  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and it isn’t any of my business  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but now im starting to want to?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** its yours and yasha’s fault  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I loved the troupe, but gods  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was never so invested in all their lives  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and ive never wanted someone to be invested in mine  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I want to tell you so many things, now  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and im not even sure why 

11/10/18 | 10:42PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** do you remember that night we shared  
**Molly Tealeaf:** up on the balcony above the city, when we first met?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** with the lights gleaming below us?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and you told me that you weren’t good  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I told you that I’d never met anyone better?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** what happened to that? why can’t I talk to you like THAT anymore?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** shit was it because I was tispy  
**Molly Tealeaf:** wait fuck 

11/10/18 | 10:58PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I promise, from now on  
**Molly Tealeaf:** whenever you ask me a question  
**Molly Tealeaf:** all you’ll get is the truth  
**Molly Tealeaf:** otherwise how on earth will we get to know each other, right? 

11/10/18 | 11:04PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I wish you would make that same promise back  
**Molly Tealeaf:** of course, I have no right to pry  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and its terrible I’d even think it  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but is it terrible that I want to know?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** is it terrible that I want  _you_ to know?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** …  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyway  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I had a wonderful time with you today  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you for the coffee, and for wingman-ing for our favorite disaster  
**Molly Tealeaf:** though you can never tell her I said that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and hey!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** see you around, Mister Caleb 

\--------------------------------------

11/12/18 | 3:09PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** gods, im about to message my last hope for a roommate  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I have to admit, I’m not really optimistic about this one  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I wish so often that you were looking for a roommate too  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it certainly would solve a number of my problems  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but id never tear you away from Nott like that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** wish me luck, I suppose!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** gods know I need it, at this rate ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

\--------------------------------------

11/13/18 | 5:03PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I don’t think I can even figure out how to tell you how excited I am for this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** a year of falling on my ass is about to pay off, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** especially if it means I’ll be helping you to not fall, tonight!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I cant wait to show you my moves! (づ￣ `￣)づ 

11/13/18 | 6:42PM 

Mollymauk Tealeaf sent a photo  
Mollymauk Tealeaf sent a photo

 **Molly Tealeaf:** HA! Look at these!! apparently Jester had time to be nosy between teaching fjord  
**Molly Tealeaf:** maybe that’s why he fell so much, huh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways, I know you remember everything  
**Molly Tealeaf:** so these pictures are really for me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I never want to forget this, dear 

11/13/18 | 9:23PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** YOURE AMAZING DAR  
**Molly Tealeaf:** WHONJNW YOU COULDNRINNK LIKE THAT  
**Molly Tealeaf:**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** AMD NOW WE’RE CHAMPTIONS  
**Molly Tealeaf:** IM SO HAPYP I COULD KISS YOU  
**Molly Tealeaf:** YOURE SJUT SO AMAIZNG  
**Molly Tealeaf:**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

11/13/18 | 10:22PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** FUCK IT

\--------------------------------------

11/15/18 | 12:32AM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I should be furious with you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for lying so plainly through your teeth  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for saying  
**Molly Tealeaf:** for saying whatever it was, that was  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I mean, GODS, what am I supposed to make of that?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but you know  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it isn’t bothering me as much as it should  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im rarely ever sorry about anything, Mister Caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but right now, in this moment, I’m more sorry than I’ve ever been

11/15/18 | 1:04AM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** i told you once that I love the people in my life beyond anything else  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and that thanks to them, every day was a beautiful day  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the day we spent together, at the rink and then the bar, THAT was a beautiful day as well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because you were there right by me, the entire time  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and then today, seeing that happen to you, coming so fucking close to losing you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** it made me realize that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** as brave as I thought I was already being, as much as I thought I was sharing with you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** there is still SO much you don’t know  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and there’s still so much that I don’t  
**Molly Tealeaf:** what happens if one of us dies before we can say what we need to?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** then what are we supposed to do about it?

11/15/18 | 1:22AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I am sorry, Mister Caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I am sorry for pushing us into that battle  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I am sorry for being so reckless  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and I am sorry for not being able to protect you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** i just hope  
**Molly Tealeaf:** maybe one day, you can find it in yourself to forgive me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** though I couldn’t blame you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** if you didn’t   
**Molly Tealeaf:**  ...  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  well i suppose this is good night, then  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  let's hope we'll both be there to greet each other come morning, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  ...  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  good night

\--------------------------------------

11/20/18 | 2:33AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** gods, I promised myself that I wouldn’t bother you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I mean, I know you’re still healing  
**Molly Tealeaf:** believe me, believe me please, everything that happened  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I cant stop thinking about it  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I want to know so badly if you’re okay  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the thought of losing you, and of hurting what we have  
**Molly Tealeaf:** whatever it is  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I can barely bear it 

11/20/18 | 3:47AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I suppose that’s actually rather selfish of me, eh?

\--------------------------------------

11/24/18 | 8:21PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** I didn’t know what I was expecting, but  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mister caleb, I am a very happy person tonight!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was so worried about what had happened  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was terrified you’d never want to see me again  
**Molly Tealeaf:** maybe its silly  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I suppose I was just being dramatic  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but that’s all I know how to be, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you’ll never see this, but  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you for still being my friend  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and…I’m rather excited to see you again, dear 

\--------------------------------------

11/25/18 | 10:05AM

 **Molly Tealeaf:**  you know, I’m not even sure why I bother texting you, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  its not like im going to get an answer!  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  but, alas, my good breeding wont allow me to drop in on you completely unannounced  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  this isn’t a live conversation, so you couldn’t see me snicker as I said “good breeding”  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  anyways  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I didn’t forget your offer to come to the library!  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and even though you wont read this  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  im heading over soon!  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  see ya here ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

11/25/18 | 10:16AM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** gods, I had better not regret this

11/25/18 | 2:09PM 

Molly Tealeaf sent a photo  
Molly Tealeaf sent a photo 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** allllright, Mister Caleb!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** got home  
**Molly Tealeaf:** figured out how the hell to get that CD into my laptop  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and im starting with “before the rivers dawn”  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I remember this one, actually  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I think you told me about it, a long time ago?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the first time we got coffee together  
**Molly Tealeaf:** well, you’ve hyped it up dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** so i had better enjoy it  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and speaking of enjoyment  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you really know how to show me a time, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** my roommate well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** my new one  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mentioned somethin yesterday about the ‘tension between us’  
**Molly Tealeaf:** im not totally sure what hes going on about  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but, well  
**Molly Tealeaf:** something about today gave me the feeling that I could start to understand  
**Molly Tealeaf:** that is  
**Molly Tealeaf:** up until a certain point, eh?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** anyways!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** enough from me!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** time to loose myself in the wonders of an audiobook  
**Molly Tealeaf:** see you in a few hours dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ive got a sewing project to do, and now ive got something to listen to  
**Molly Tealeaf:** oh, right!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and  
**Molly Tealeaf:** thank you

\--------------------------------------

11/26/18 | 1:03AM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** good gods, this book is FANTASTIC|  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and heartbreaking, holy shit  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I suddenly have so many more questions about your taste in literature  
**Molly Tealeaf:** okay okay, im going back to listening now!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I’m seven hours in, this is incredible

\--------------------------------------

11/27/18 | 4:03PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** the SUN IS A DICK  
**Molly Tealeaf:** AND THIS IS A STANDALONE NOVEL????  
**Molly Tealeaf:** NO SEQUELS, OR ANYTHING?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** GODS, THAT’S NOT FAIR  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you bet your pretty ass im coming back tomorrow for more  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I need to distract myself from ALL that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good gods, I’m so mad at you for this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but also so thankful  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but also FUCK you 

\--------------------------------------

11/28/18 | 6:37PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** okay  
**Molly Tealeaf:** okayyyyy  
**Molly Tealeaf:** okayyyyyy????  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mister caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:** MISTER CALEB  
**Molly Tealeaf:** good gods, mister caleb, WHAT are you trying to get across here?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and you wont correct me if im wrong  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I was CERTAIN that we were on track to just be  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you know, good friends.  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and because of that, it’s been honestly quite a bit since I texted you like this  
**Molly Tealeaf:** or at least, sang out into the void that is your inbox  
**Molly Tealeaf:** because gods, I thought it was sincerely time for me to step up and stop this backseat love nonsense I’ve got going on  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but now???  
**Molly Tealeaf:** mister caleb, what you did at the coffee shop  
**Molly Tealeaf:** again, you won’t correct me if im wrong  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but I MUST be onto something if I’m wondering whether or not that wasn’t entirely platonic, yes?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** oh gods, what does this mean  
**Molly Tealeaf:** is there pHD in sending mixed signals or something, because you, my friend, should teach classes  
**Molly Tealeaf:** and ANOTHER thing  
**Molly Tealeaf:** what in the gods name possessed you to ask me if I was alright???  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you cant just DO that  
**Molly Tealeaf:** you can just say that to me, in my point of lowest emotional being  
**Molly Tealeaf:** whether or not im alright

\--------------------------------------

Yesterday | 12:03AM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:**  a few days ago, I told you that I didn’t understand where we stood  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  that I didn’t know if you loved me, and I didn’t know if you should  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I wasn’t sure anymore, of what I was doing  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I felt lost, mister caleb  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I was a peacock without my spotlight   
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I was person who’d lost it all  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  but then I think I realized something, in that time  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I didn’t lose it all  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  it sucks that I miss my home   
**Molly Tealeaf:**  it sucks that my family’s scattered  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  it sucks that I felt a bit abandoned  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  but at least I still had you all  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  at least I still had the mighty nein  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and now, the mighty nein is going to help me get my first home back  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and they’re doing this for me  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and they’re doing it because of you  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and its still true, that I don’t know if youre doing this because you’re a good person  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I don’t know if youre doing this because youre an amazing friend  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and I don’t  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I don’t know if youre doing this because you love me  
**Molly Tealeaf:** if you love me  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  maybe you dont  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  but I know now, for certain, that whatever’s the case  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  a person like that  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  a person like YOU  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  …  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  I can’t help but love you  
**Molly Tealeaf:** I love you, Caleb Widogast  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  its been too long and it’s still too early  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  but I think you deserve to know that  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and…I’m going to make sure that you do  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  …  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  good night, dear  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  sleep tight  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  and with any luck  
**Molly Tealeaf:**  this’ll be the last message I send you

Yesterday | 11:59PM 

 **Molly Tealeaf:** happy new year, mister caleb <3


	28. Out Beyond the Rooftops

Mollymauk Tealeaf stood alone in the night on the first day of the new year.

Snow had begun to fall, dusting the rooftops with gentle flakes that shone softly in the moonlight. The hum of a sleeping city murmured across the skyline, and sweet winter air whispered promises to the stars.

In a minute, he’d go back inside. In a minute, he’d go face his friends. In a minute, he’d let himself speak. But for now, for this second, for this moment, he just sighed.

He reached into his pocket.

He found a slip of paper, twice-folded, never lost.

He’d had it since…gods, since the bar. Since that night.

He stared at the writing, traced it slow with a finger.

And then he chuckled, and shook his head, and reared back, and sent it flying.

He turned around, let the pale orange glow of the apartment meet his face. He took a step forwards and walked closer to the glass, drew his sweater across his shoulders and let warmth meet his skin.

He didn’t see the paper getting caught in the wind. He didn’t see the name twirling up to the sky. He didn’t see it flicker, he didn’t see it shake, he didn’t see it soar beyond rooftops with the breeze.

Instead, Mollymauk Tealeaf went back inside.

And Mollymauk Tealeaf never once looked back.

\--------------------------------------

Late that night, so late it had crested into morning, the kitchen window slid open and Nott the Brave returned home.

Her gait was lopsided, her grin wide and joy-warmed, and she cheerfully tripped off the counter as she made her way down, clutching her flask in one hand and humming softly to herself.

And then she paused.

Even through the drunken mists, she could tell that something in the apartment was wrong. It wasn’t the darkness, since it was night and she had no problem seeing; it wasn’t the stillness, since their home was usually calm; and it wasn’t the quiet, because…because…

…it wasn’t quiet.

Through the slits in her hood, Nott’s ears gave a twitch. There was a faint noise, just on the edge of hearing, a strange sort of muffled breathing, wet and low from Caleb’s room.

Nott had only heard this sound once, before. She instantly knew what it was.

She hurried over to the door, threw it back, barreled through.

A figure’s head shot up and caught her eyes in the darkness.

“Oh,” Nott murmured. “Oh, Caleb.”

He was hunched over under the window, crouching down by the outlet. His face shone pale in the light of his screen, his eyes wide, his nose red, his cheeks stained with tears.

He didn’t bother hiding any of this. Nott ran over, quickly rushed to his side.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered gently. “Caleb, what’s the matter?”

He took a shaky breath, wiped his face off with his sleeve.

“I—I did something,” he mumbled. “I…made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Nott blinked. “What—what kind of mistake? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Caleb shook his head. “No,” he murmured, “no, no, I am not, but…I did hurt someone else. Someone important to me. Someone who…who I think I may love. And…and…”

He sobbed again, his lungs rattled in the gloom.

“And I am worried that this mistake…that this mistake is one I will not be able to fix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Ah...
> 
> Usually I think I'd put a lenny face or something here, but that would probably be a bit tasteless, right? Soooooo, instead I'll just say thank you, so _so_ much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed (?) this New Year's Eve update. You guys, and your love, and support, have made 2018 a lot less terrible than it could have been, and a lot more amazing than I ever could have said. I love you all, each of you, so so so so _so_ much, and thank you for coming on this journey with me. 
> 
> And speaking of this journey, strap in, gang. This chapter marks the end of Arc 3, and the beginning of the end of this fic. Arc 4's going to be a bit wild, and a bit crazy, and probably longer than I'll intend it to be, but I can promise you that there are still plenty of laughs, warm fuzzies, and--no spoilers!--an ending I hope will leave y'all walking away with smiles on your faces. Don't worry, I haven't nearly run out of things to say or ideas to share, so as long as you'll have me, this story is going to keep going strong!
> 
> That being said, I _will_ be taking a short break to sort out the arc and get a head start on updates, and also just 'cause I think I almost died writing this much in so few days!! Don't you worry, it should only be a week or so, and then the story must go on!!
> 
> As always, of course, comments and kudos keep me going, and if you want to scream at me--which would be totally cool and probably deserved--you can also always find me as [@sockablock ](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr! I'll keep you posted on developments there, of course, as well. And, one more time, thank you so so so so _so_ much for your support, and it's been an honor having you as my lovely readers.
> 
> And hey!! Happy 2019, gang!!
> 
> <3333333333333


	29. The Things You Don't Tell Anyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaand, we're back.
> 
> Featuring: the dog days of winter, tea with the enchanter, nott makes a delivery, Fjord and Jester and Beau have a chat, things become evident, Yasha is inspired, Molly and Caleb are ,, dealing
> 
> (And a special thank you to @naughtbutstars on tumblr, for help reviewing my fantasy!german in the last chapters!!)

“I mean, _I_ thought it went pretty well.”

Fjord sighed, and crouched down to introduce himself to a sleepy-looking rottweiler. The dog gave him a cursory one-eyed glance through the bars, then lowered its head and went back to bed.

“How would you even know?” he called over his shoulder. “You were shit-faced the whole time.”

Beau knelt down next to him on the tiled shelter floor and rolled her eyes. “Uh, _duh,_ that’s how I know it rocked. If I’d been sober for even a second, it wouldn’t have been a good party, would it?”

Fjord watched her stick her fingers into the cage of a very excited golden retriever. “I’m sure _you_ had a good time,” he sighed, “but I’m still worried about Molly. I mean…you were watchin’ too, right? That conversation didn’t look so great.”

“It looked…passionate.” Beau examined her slobber-covered hand. “I’m sure everything’s _fine_.”

“Really?” Fjord sounded skeptical. “Caleb _did_ leave pretty earl—”

“Nah, nah, that’s just how he gets,” she said dismissively. “The guy _hates_ parties. It’s actually pretty impressive he managed to last through the countdown. And Molly would’ve said something if either of them had been upset. You know him, talks about _everything_.”

“I… _guess_ that’s true,” Fjord rubbed his chin. “I don’t know, though, I got a funny feeling that something—”

“Guys! Guys, come look at this!”

Fjord and Beau turned, and saw Jester waving at them from across the shelter. She was crouched down in front of some cages, a smile plastered across her face, with a very harried-looking volunteer standing next to her. They quickly made their way over, passing a menagerie of animals—more dogs, more cats, a flurry of feathers and something long and reptilian—before arriving at her side.

“Look at this,” she giggled, pointing through the bars at a small blur that was trying to gnaw through her sleeve. “Look at him, look, he’s _perfect_!”

“Shit, he’s really cute.” Fjord knelt by her side, chuckled as the fuzzball gave up on Jester and started roughhousing with his coat.

Beau leaned over both their shoulders to get a closer look, and instantly felt her heart start to melt. Crouched inside this cage was a little puppy just big enough to still carry in one hand. Its ears poked straight up on its head, and its coat was a strange patchwork splash of black on gold. It had a nubby tail that threatened to grow longer, and two dark eyes bursting with the enthusiasm and endearment typical of an adorable baby animal.

It had found a worthy adversary in Fjord’s zipper. There was drool all over the bars.

“What _is_ that?” Beau asked, turning to the shelter volunteer. “Some kind of…shepherd, or something? How old is it?”

The frazzled young elf adjusted her glasses and shrugged. “We think so? Kestriv’s mostly been stumped with this little guy. He’s probably somewhere between nine and twelve weeks, and he’s probably a mutt.”

“Just like you,” Jester grinned, elbowing Fjord in the shoulder. He sighed, but didn’t argue.

“So he’s a baby, then?” he asked instead. “He’ll get bigger?”

“If your friend’s right, then yes,” the volunteer nodded. “I think you can expect something in the medium-to-large category.”

“Is he healthy?” Beau demanded. “You aren’t gonna sell them a sick dog, are you?”

“Beauregard!” Jester chided. “Even if he _was_ sick, that wouldn’t matter! We’d help him get better and love him _so_ much, isn’t that right, Nugget? Little nuggy, nug-wug—”

“Also, we aren’t selling him,” the volunteer muttered, adjusting her glasses again. “None of these animals are for sale, miss, they’re…they’re for _adopting_. This is a shelter.”

Beau gave her a long, hard stare. Then she shrugged, leaned back, crossed her arms.

“If you say so. But I’m _watching_ you.”

“…alright then, miss.”

Fjord gently pulled his zipper free and offered up his hand. As Nugget cheerfully started to drool on it, he turned back to the volunteer. There was a strange softness to his eyes.

“How soon can we take him home?” he asked. “What would we need to do?”

She glanced down at her clipboard and quickly rifled through some pages.

“Er…well, to start, I’d need to see a copy of your lease…”

\--------------------------------------

“Sorry it’s such a mess back here,” said Pumat Prime as he brushed the curtain aside. “I meant to clean up earlier, but I think the morning got away from me.”

Caduceus Clay chuckled and gently shook his head. “Ah, don’t worry about it. My mother always said that clutter was a sign of genius.”

The enchanter gave a laugh. “Is that so? It sounds like we’d get along wonderfully.”

He made his way around a stack of books and towards his workbench. It had been cleared, just moments ago, by way of pushing absolutely everything previously atop it onto the ground. Gem dust glittered up from the floorboards, a few tools and pieces of armor lay scattered at their feet. Caduceus took note of this, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.

Now, instead of the various tools and implements essential to a career enchanter, the table only housed two slightly-battered mugs and a well-worn clay kettle. Steam rose up from the spout in faint wisps.

“Here,” said Pumat, and gestured to one of the wooden chairs by the bench. “I hope this isn’t too uncomfortable.”

Caduceus bowed his head. “Of course not,” he said politely. “And it does beat spending my lunch break alone.”

“I hear that,” Pumat grinned. “My duplicates are, well, they’re _me_ , so the conversations can get a bit circular.” He slowly walked over to his seat. “It’s nice to have someone else back here. And, if I’m not being too forward, I’m rather excited to see what you’ve brought.”

Caduceus’s smile could have lit up the room. He reached down into his bag and produced two small packets, each marked with a bright pink flower. He slid one across the table, and placed the other into his own mug.

“It’s hibiscus,” he explained, watching the enchanter examine the packet with gentle hands. “I hope you like it.”

Pumat Sol looked up. There was a soft curve to his lips.

“Of course,” he murmured. “I’m sure you have excellent taste.”

\--------------------------------------

“That’ll be…thirteen dollars and ninety cents, please.”

Nott’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Thirteen dollars_?” she demanded. “What?! But last time it was only ten!”

The postal worker sighed, and leaned over the counter to meet Nott the Brave—standing on a step-stool—square in the eye.

“It’s thirteen,” she repeated. “There’s been increased goblin activity around Felderwin, so rates are goin’ up. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about _that,_ would you?”

Nott scowled. She produced the money.

“Take a good look at that address,” she said, slamming the payment down onto the counter. “I don’t have _nothin’_ to do with goblins.”

The worker gave her an icy look as she scooped up the cash.

“Thank you,” she said, not warmly at all, “for choosing Empire Express. Your number one choice in package delivery across the lands of our good King Bertrand.”

Nott stuck her tongue out. “More like my _only_ choice. Take care of that package, or an army of goblins will kidnap you in your sleep.”

There was a pause. Then the worker just rolled her eyes, and dropped the parcel onto a stack of other boxes.

“ _Next!_ ”

\--------------------------------------

Yasha stood before a scene of absolute carnage.

She was home alone this afternoon, and had spent most of the day doing laundry and some mild cleaning, before remembering a very important task. She had ventured out into the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and now…this.

Her heart beat out of her chest and panic ran wild through her veins. Her lungs felt heavy with sin and her fingers, as she pulled back and examined them, were stained with the faint-green stickiness of failure.

She hung her head. She reached out and picked up a swollen, fallen leaf from the soil. It was a sickly lime color. It lay limp in her grasp.

“I am sorry,” she murmured, to the drooping plant before her. “I…I have failed you.”

The Merryfrond’s Cactus did not respond, which was not entirely unexpected. Yasha sighed.

“You deserve someone who can properly take care of you,” she said solemnly. “Perhaps I am not worthy of seeing your flowers.”

Continued silence in the apartment. Somewhere in the distance, the heater whirred.

Yasha brushed the side of the terracotta pot. “You will give me one more chance?” she breathed. “Truly?”

There was no audible response. Still, she nodded resolutely.

“I will not fail you.” She rubbed her chin. “There _must_ be something I can still do. Something that will make this right. Something…something…” She smacked her forehead.

“Some- _one_ ,” she sighed. “Of course. I need help.”

\--------------------------------------

“I’m just worried that something went wrong,” Fjord shrugged, as they stood in the dingy subway tunnel and waited for their train to arrive. “I mean, I got a really weird vibe from Molly when he came back in. I lived with the guy nearly two years, I have a sense for that sort of thing.”

“Do you?” Beau raised a skeptical eyebrow. “’Cause, no offense, you’re kind of the densest guy I know.”

“Hey, at least _I_ wasn’t drunk the whole time—”

“No, but you _definitely_ weren’t paying atten—”

“Enough, enough!” Jester raised her hands. “Come on, you guys, play nice! And, anyways, I think Fjord might actually have a point.”

Beau rolled her eyes. Fjord punched a triumphant fist into the air and nearly collided with the brick wall.

“But come _on_ ,” Beau sighed, “I’m sure Molly would’ve _said_ something. And if not actually that night, then later on! It’s already been four days—”

“Three days,” supplied Fjord.

“Shut up. Anyways, Molly tells us _everything._ Sometimes he tells us way too much. In graphic detail.”

Jester tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Is that…is that _true_ , though?” she mused. “I mean, if it was something _really_ important, and it was something about _Caleb_ , do you really think he’d have told us?”

“Do you think he wouldn’t have?”

Jester gave a shrug that said, _I’m just a little blue tiefling, I don’t have all the answers,_ but she tried her best anyway.

“Sometimes there are things you don’t want to tell anyone,” she said. “Sometimes there are secrets that get kept all to yourself.”

Fjord and Beau fell silent. They seemed to consider this for a moment.

“But, like…” Beau raised a careful hand. “I mean, I _get_ that. But if I’m being totally honest, Jes, I’m pretty sure I’ve basically told you everything there is to know about me. Basically.”

“ _I_ definitely have,” Fjord muttered. “That one’s for sure.”

The tracks below their feet started to rumble. A light bloomed at the end of the tunnel.

“But Molly’s different from you guys,” Jester sighed as the train drew closer. “If he was really upset, I mean _really_ upset, I think he’d do everything he could to hide it.”

\--------------------------------------

“I am sorry to be bothering you about this,” Yasha said, hefting a 50-lb bag of fertilizer over her shoulder like it was nothing, “I hope I am not keeping you from going home.”

Caduceus chuckled, and shook his head. “No worries,” he said, gently tapping the corner of the bag. “I only just finished my shift, and this is definitely more important. Plus, I'm just honored you came to _me_ for help.”

“You are the expert, my friend."

He grinned. "Glad to hear it."

"I cannot believe it was something so simple as too much water, though," Yasha sighed, kicking morosely at the sidewalk. "I did not even think that was possible.”

“It’s definitely possible,” Caduceus said solemnly. “Most people forget that Merryfrond’s Cactuses are, well, _cactuses._ They sure don’t look like ‘em.”

“They look like regular plants,” Yasha agreed. “But I am excited to help this one grow.”

Caduceus practically glowed with happiness. “That’s _great_!” he beamed. “That’s the right attitude. And if you ever need me, come find me. Anytime.”

Yasha, always one to take things literally, gave him a quizzical glance. “You are sure that would not be a bother?”

He shrugged, and shook his head. “Nah. Making sure your plants are healthy is important. And besides…”

He gave a faint sigh.

“...besides, these last few days, I’ve been trying to get out of the house as much as possible.”

\--------------------------------------

Nott climbed up across the fire escape and over to the wall with the ease of a skilled practitioner. The window was unlocked, as always, but she frowned slightly when she noticed that there was a strange pale light flickering from deep within the apartment. She pressed her face against the glass, and eyed it closely.

\--------------------------------------

“You know,” Fjord mused as he poked at his dinner, “I can’t stop thinking about what you said about Molly.”

“Oh yeah?” Jester had long moved onto dessert, and there was now half a doughnut stuffed into her mouth. “How is that going for you?”

Fjord put his fork down. “I think you’re right,” he said softly. “I know I’m not…the _most_ observant guy out there, but I _do_ think there’s something up with him. I mean, how many texts has he sent you since New Dawn?”

Jester considered this. “I don’t know, maybe…huh. Yeah, only a few.”

Fjord nodded encouragingly. “And isn’t that _weird_? Usually I have to mute the bastard. But recently…nothing.”

“Shit, do you think we should check on him?” Jester asked. “Because that seems… _really_ worrying.”

Fjord sighed. “Like you said, though, this might be something he isn’t willing to talk to us about. He’ll just clam up if we interrogate ‘im further. He’d just avoid us.”

“So we have to try and get him to spend time with us,” Jester shrugged. “And in the meantime, we can ask someone else for details. Someone who probably knows what’s happening. Someone we know we can ask, who Molly _might_ have talked to.”

Fjord put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “And who did you have in mind?”

\--------------------------------------

Yasha blinked, and her grip on the spoon slackened in surprise. She peered in closer, over their plastic containers of Marquesian takeout, to examine Beau’s screen more carefully.

“It is…a dog,” she said eventually. “Does he have a name?”

Beau pulled back and gave her a cheerful smile—which was strange and bewildering in its own right.

“He’s Nugget,” she explained around a mouthful of rice. “Fjord and Jes’s new puppy. They found ‘im at the shelter today, and they should be going back to pick him up soon. Once all the paperwork’s done.”

“Paperwork?” Yasha tilted her head. “You must fill out paperwork to get a dog?”

“To get any pet,” Beau shrugged. “The Empire _loves_ making people fill out forms. I expect you didn’t have _those_ , out in the moors.”

“We did not have pets in the moors,” Yasha said. “I did not know what pets were, until I got here.”

Beau’s fork clattered out of her hand. “You _what_? Wait, _what_?”

Yasha leaned back slightly under the force of her cries. “Er…yes, we did not have pets. Is that so strange?”

Beau dropped her chin into her palm. “Oh, _man_ , pets are the _best_! I mean, I never had one personally, my parents never let me, since they sucked, but…the kids who did, and stuff, and the people who did, well…pets are just like another member of the family. They’re like having kids, but different.”

“Easier?”

Beau snorted. “Probably not. Fluffier, though. Usually. Unless you get a lizard, I guess.”

Yasha rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Would _you_ want a lizard?”

Beau grinned, and dove back into her dinner without too much consideration. “Eh, maybe? Though when I was _real_ little, what I _really_ wanted was, like, a kickass bird, or something. Like…a _cool_ bird, that could eat meat and that you’d need a glove to handle, and stuff. A bird that says ‘don’t fuck with me, ‘cause I’m a fuckin’ _bad_ bird,’ you know?”

Yasha tried desperately to decipher and respond to this statement. Eventually, she just gave a faint nod and went back to eating her dinner.

“What about you?” Beau asked.

“Ah…what?”

“What kind of pet would _you_ like?”

She considered this for a moment.

“I do not know,” she murmured quietly. “I never really thought about it. But, ah…a bird _does_ sound nice.”

\--------------------------------------

Caduceus Clay stood before the door to his apartment.

It was late evening in the city now, the sun having long ago set over the horizon. Most of their neighbors had already returned home for the night, and the gentle sounds of televisions playing, stoves whirring, a stray shower and distant humming, filtered in through the walls and doors. But at the moment, all around him, the fourth floor corridor was empty.

Save, however, for a few spiders lingering in the corners of the hall. 

See them now, dangling along their webs, tiny legs brushing silk and eyes steady in the dark. See the dance of spinners and the work of hunters, waving slowly in the breeze. See them shake, and see them quiver, and see them wait.

See, what the spiders saw:

Caduceus Clay took a deep breath. He stared at the doorknob. He stared at his keys.

He took a moment and ran a hand through his hair. His shoulders still housed the softest traces of snow, there was a faint chill to his breath as he considered his next move.

“Molly would’ve texted me,” he sighed to an audience of arachnids. “Molly would have _warned_ me. Molly is my _friend_.”

He scratched his fingers against his scalp, and sighed.

“Molly didn’t warn me _last_ time, though. Or the time before that. Or the time before that.”

He stared at his keys. He stared at the doorknob. He took a deep breath, and raised his hand, and let the metal sink into the lock.

“Molly hasn’t been a great friend, lately, has he?”

The spiders watched him go home.

\--------------------------------------

“Mister Clay!” Molly beamed, as Caduceus trudged in through the door. “Welcome back, dear! How was your day?”

Caduceus hung his coat up on the rack and gave Molly a smile only few could have really interpreted. “It _was_ nice,” he said, as passive-aggressively as he dared. “It _was_ perfect.”

“Wonderful, wonderful!” The tone had no effect. “Well, come in, don’t be a stranger! Meet Sal, he’s a friend from the Leaky Tap!”

The young half-elven man tangled up in Molly’s arms, looking extremely bewildered and now mildly flustered, quickly pulled himself free. “Er, ah, hello, there,” he said, raising a hand and then quickly lowering that hand. “My name’s…my name’s Sam, actually, er…it’s nice to met you…Mister Clay, was it?”

“It was,” Caduceus responded, and kicked his shoes into the tray. “It’s nice to meet you too. I’ll be in my room.”

Molly sat up just enough to watch Caduceus retreat through the living room. “Can I tempt you to join us?” he called over the couch. “We’re leaving soon for some burgers and drinks, if you’d like to tag along!”

“I can feed myself fine,” came the answer, with an edge too thin to notice. “Have fun, you two.”

Molly grinned and waved a hand. “We will, dear, no worries there! And we’ll try not to make too much noise when we get back!”

A door in the hallway clicked shut in response. Molly shrugged, and turned back to his companion.

“Excuse him,” he said with a faint sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, he’s usually much more personable.”

“He, er, he seems like an interesting fellow?” Sam tried, looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute. “Very…pink.”

Molly laughed. “He _is_! It’s a delightful aesthetic. And now, dear, we should probably go out and get those drinks, yes? I know a _great_ place, I go there _all_ the time, and we can get to know each other a little bit better, eh? But not too much, of course.”

The half-elf grinned, and Molly leaned in for a kiss.

\--------------------------------------

“Now that I think about it,” Fjord added, as he dropped his plate into the sink, “there’s probably someone _else_ we could ask. Molly wasn’t the only one on that balcony, you know?”

Jester clapped her hands together excitedly. “That’s right, that’s right!” she declared. “We can also try—”

She was cut off, by a frantic ringing coming from the countertop. Its source was Fjord’s phone, which had been left there to charge. He shut the faucet off and went over to retrieve it. 

Today | 6:18PM

 **Caduceus Clay:** help me  
**Caduceus Clay:** I don’t know what to do about molly  
**Fjord:**????  
**Caduceus Clay:** this is the 4th person hes brought to our house this week  
**Caduceus Clay:** romantically, I mean  
**Caduceus Clay:** its getting to be a little much  
**Fjord:** wait, what?  
**Fjord:** THIS week??  
**Fjord:** cad, its monday  
**Caduceus Clay:** I know  
**Fjord:** wait wait wait  
**Fjord:** WHAT???  
**Fjord:** what HAPPENED?  
**Caduceus Clay:** im not sure, but id like it to stop please 

Fjord looked up.

“What is it?” Jester asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is everything alright?”

He shook his head. Without saying a word, he handed over the phone.

\-------------------------------------- 

_—of disappearances. Parents are advised to keep children at home after school, and to follow city curfew regulations. Recent reports suggest that individuals of all ages are being taken, and multiple culprits are suspected. Should you ever feel threatened, make your way to the nearest Crownsg—_

Nott tumbled over the back of the couch and landed square on the cushions next to Caleb.

“Hey, hey!” she said, poking him in the leg. “How long have you been sitting here?”

This elicited the barest of grunts.

She sighed, and leaned in closer. “Try again. How long?”

There was a pause. And then:

“All day.”

“ _…what_?”

Like a glacier sliding across millennia, Caleb shifted to face her general direction. “All day,” he repeated softly. “I have been here all day.”

Nott glanced around the living room. She saw a dirty takeout container, half a bottle of soda, a stack of tissues. She noted the strange smell permeating her friend, and the blank look glazed across his eyes.

“You’ve been here _all day_?!”

He shuffled slightly and turned back to the TV. “ _Ja_ , what about it?”

Nott shot up to her feet, ran over to the grainy screen and started waving frantically for Caleb’s attention. “But you had work today!” she cried. “You can’t just miss work!”

“I used a sick day,” he mumbled. “I had plenty left, anyways.”

“Are you sick?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Nott rolled her eyes. “Come _on_ , Caleb,” her tone was gentle, but insistent. “I know you’re going through a lot right now, but you can’t let that stop you! You still need to, you know, _do_ stuff. Like, like, you have to go outside! And see people! You can’t just sit around all day and wallow—”

Her pocket started to buzz urgently. She sighed, and pulled out her phone.

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 6:31PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** heyyyyy guys!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** it’s a new week and you know what that meanssssss  
**Babebarian:**?????  
**Drunkmonk:** no, I don’t think I do  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** oh my gods  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** guyssssss  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** it’s MOVIE TIME!!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** come on, come on, I’ve got some great ideas and we all need to hang out already again  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** what do you all say???? 

Nott proffered her phone to Caleb, who had already looked away.

“Jes is inviting us to movies,” she said quietly. “I think we should go.”

Very slowly, he reached for the remote and gave a shake of his head.

“You go, _spatz._ I do not think I am up for it, at the moment.”

Nott considered Caleb for a long, long time. His eyes were red, sunken in a pale face. His gaze was fixed on the slow flickering light of the television, and his breathing had an edge to it, like he was trying desperately to stay calm.

She sighed.

“I won’t force you to face him,” she said quietly, “but you should at least take a shower. I’m a _goblin_ , and I’m starting to think you’re getting kind of gross.”

Caleb cracked a very faint smile.

“Is that so?”

Emboldened by his expression, she nodded quickly. “Yeah. It’s like being roommates with a garbage can.”

“ _That_ bad?”

“Well, maybe not that bad.”

“Ah. Thank the gods.”

Nott climbed back onto the couch and leaned briefly against his side. “And, um, I don’t want to push it, but…try to get outside tomorrow, okay? For me? Otherwise I’ll sit next to you and scream, all day long.”

Caleb snorted. He managed to turn and, for the first time in a couple days, truly meet her eye.

“Thank you for caring,” he said quietly. “That is…important to me.”

She nudged him gently in the thigh. “Get moving,” she replied. “The TV will still be here when you’re done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, gang!! I really hope you enjoyed this new update, and I hope you're as excited as I am to see what comes next!! I know the last few updates were really up there in length (7k, 11k, TWELVE-k good god) so I hope you're alright with me easing back into it with a shorter chapter! Updates will also be a bit slower than before, every week-ish once again as I plot out the rest of this arc, and deal with semester 2 starting soon. Thank you for your amazing patience during my hiatus, and thank you thank you so so much for your incredible readership and comments thus far!! You all are really some of the most incredible readers I've ever had, and I am truly honored, to each of you, who've given this piece a chance and had some fun with it. My inbox has been FLOODED these last few weeks, and while I've finally cleared it out, it meant the world to me that y'all have been letting me know what you think!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos keep me going, and you can always find me [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr!! Thank you so so much again, and see y'all next time
> 
> <333333333333333


	30. Like Fish in a Ghostly Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early update, gang!!! I've been sick and stuck at home this week so ,, 7k words happened
> 
> Featuring: caduceus's final straw, jester and Yasha and coffee, Caleb talks to Nott, Beau gets a card, Molly finds the fun, A call to dad, a visitor at the bar, Books and texting and magic

That morning, Caduceus Clay awoke to the gentle singing of birds by a mountain stream. After a few seconds to gather himself, and brace himself for the day, he rolled out of bed, rubbed at his eyes, and reached out to shut his alarm off.

But the sound of running water continued.

“Drat,” he muttered to himself.

It took him a little longer to fully get up after that, his spirit now bogged down by the knowledge of what was about to happen. But Caduceus had work today, and breakfast to make, so he eventually still tugged on his slippers and headed out to the bathroom.

The door was wide open, as he thought it would be. Steam pooled out into the hallway.

He leaned against the frame with a long, hard sigh.

“Mornin’, Sal. If you need a toothbrush, Molly’s is the purple one.”

The half-elf standing in front of the sink jolted with surprise and grabbed a towel off the rack. “Shit, shit, sorry,” he said frantically, “sorry, let me just cover up—”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Caduceus shrugged. “On a dead body, of course, but it’s all the same eventually.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. For a few seconds of silence, they just stood there in the mist.

Then Caduceus hit his forehead with his palm. “Oh, silly me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was confusing. It’s just that my family runs a cemetery, you see. We’re professional disposers of corpses. Makers of really fine graves.”

Sam seemed unable to move. Condensation dripped from the half-elf’s slender face, and it might have been steam and it might have been sweat.

Caduceus just nodded and wrapped a hand around the doorknob. “Please hurry,” he said, gently closing the door. “I’ve got to get to work soon, and excuse me, but you’re in my way.”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb leaned over the sink and rinsed his toothbrush under the faucet.

“You know, you really do not have to do this,” he said, glancing at the figure on a stool at his right. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it seems unnecessary.”

Nott shook her head, sending suds scattering onto the mirror.

“This is solidarity,” she said, and spit out a mouthful of toothpaste. “I feel bad for saying that you were stinky last night, so this is the least I can do.”

“But you have told me before that goblins do not need to brush their teeth,” Caleb said. “Is there even any benefit in this, for you?”

Nott shrugged.  “I’ve never met a goblin who’s tried. It’s possible.”

“I hope this does not _damage_ your teeth, in any way.”

“Ha! I’ve eaten a lot of things that are worse than toothpaste.” She spat into the sink and wiped her face against a towel. “This is _nothing_.”

Caleb watched her reflection, paying special attention to how a corner of fabric caught itself against one of her fangs. He remembered a few of the items he’d found missing before in their fridge—half a pack of frozen bacon, a carton of eggs, something that might have been blood and might have been pudding, copious amounts of alcohol—and nodded.

“I suppose that is fair.”

Nott grinned back at him with a somewhat clean smile. He laughed, and reached down to pinch one of her cheeks.

“Adorable,” he nodded. “Now you are a real _dreckspatz_.”

After they finished the rest of their morning routine, consisting of Nott sitting on the laundry hamper and calling out unhelpful advice as Caleb shaved, both of them moved into the kitchen to plan for the day over breakfast.

“I have taken what you said to heart,” said Caleb, pouring a reasonable brand of cereal into his bowl. “I _will_ go outside today.”

“Great!” said Nott, pouring Captain Roger’s X-Treme Chunky Chocolate Fudge Flakes and Fun Bites into her bowl, and adding chocolate milk for good measure. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but it’s _got_ to be better than sitting around and doing nothing.”

“ _Ja, ja,_ though I still have no idea what I will do about…about the situation.”

Nott reached for a napkin. “You aren’t going to try talking to him, then? You don’t wanna maybe…send him a text?”

Caleb quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. He…he cannot know I saw those messages, they are… _too_ personal. And…I do not think he would want me to speak to him, at the moment.”

“They _were_ about you, though,” Nott pointed out. “In a way, you have a right to know how he felt.”

“But I lost those rights when I broke his heart,” Caleb sighed. “I just…for now, _spatz_. For now, I would like to not focus on…all that.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Okay, okay, I won’t push it. What do you want to do today? Are we going to the library?”

He shrugged, but was grateful for the change in subject. “I am not sure. I do not have a shift today, and there are not really any books there I have left to read.”

“Because you’re still looking for magic, right?” Nott glanced up from her bowl. “You’re still trying to learn all kinds of spells?”

“ _Ja_ , of course. Just…not entirely for the same reason why I started learning, anymore.”

Nott frowned. Her spoon drooped slightly. “What do you mean by that?”

Caleb swirled his cereal around slowly. “It is just…in the past, I…it is silly, do not laugh,” he sighed, “but I had wanted the power to change reality. I think…a part of me still wants that power. It still wants to go back, and to re-do everything that I have done wrong. Which is…a _lot_.”

“Well, not a _lot_ —”

“It’s still pretty significant,” Caleb said. “But you know, I have also been doing some thinking in-between the copious amounts of television. If I had erased my first terrible mistake, I never would have met you. And if I had erased that mistake, I never would have met all the others. And…things are still not perfect. There is still a…a flaw in my life, that I am unsure how to deal with. But I think…I think I will just let whatever happens, _happen_ , and I can…deal with what comes next.”

Nott studied his expression carefully. “Will you be… _alright_ , if Molly never talks to you again?”

A pause.

“No. But…I think, as long as I have you, and all the rest, eventually, I could be.”

Nott reached across the table and put a hand over his.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” she said softly.

Caleb grinned around a mouthful of cereal.

The two of them continued to eat in silence for a few more beats, then Nott went in for a second bowl and Caleb moved over to the sink.

“About that…bending reality stuff, though,” Nott called out from behind him, “do you think—eventually—you _will_ be able to do that?”

Caleb considered this for a moment. He ran his bowl under the sink.

“Well, that is a good question. I will say that right now, I am certainly more powerful than during my days at the academy. Perhaps not as…confident, and without as many resources, but…I _am_ more powerful. Some of that is due to the books I have found, and if I am being honest, some of that is due to the ridiculous battles and shenanigans this group tends to get into. If we stick around each other longer, I am certain something will come of it. That is part of why I still want to learn magic, you know, so that when we inevitably start more trouble, I can help.”

He slid a sponge across the inside of his bowl, and waited over the water for Nott’s response.

“Do you still think…do you still think that one day, you’ll be able to change me?”

He stopped. His grip on the bowl went slack.

“Nott…you still want to look different?”

“I want to _be_ different.”

He stared into the soapy suds for a moment. Then he shut the faucet off, and turned towards her.

“I…it would be an extremely powerful spell, _spatz_. It could take…years, for us to find it, and for me to gather the power to cast it.”

Her eyes were bright and urgent.

“But you _can_ do it, can’t you? Caleb, I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”

“I…eventually, for you, I can try, but is this really what you—”

“Caleb?”

He paused. “Ah…yes?”

Her fist clenched.

“Do you trust me?”

“ _Ja,_ with my life.”

Nott nodded, and gave him a smile. She grabbed her bowl, and slid off her chair, and walked over to the sink and turned the faucet back on.

“Then trust me with my own life too, okay?”

\--------------------------------------

“ _Yasha_ ,” said Jester, leaning across the table. “How _lovely_ it is to see you, today! How are you, how is your health, how’s the weather?”

Yasha raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I am fine? And the weather I think is cold, er, Jester is…everything alright?”

The two of them were seated beside a window in the Sieversii College café, amid a bustling throng of students, faculty members, college staff and random strangers, all joined here together at the start of the semester to hide inside from the cold. A glass case of pastries stood directly to their left, and the sound of drinks being poured into cups settled through the air like a cushion. The curtains were all drawn open this morning, allowing sunlight to stream in among the wafting aromas of sugars, and spices, and cream.

Even in such a crowded setting, Jester and Yasha cut striking figures. But Jester, at least, was recognizable by a number of students and professors, and her cheery smile was always enough to melt any immediate suspicion.

Yasha, on the other hand, was somehow single-handedly curving the flow of traffic from the front door to the counter. Whether consciously or not, passersby tended to give her a wide berth.

“I’m just wondering how my _favorite_ giant lady is doing,” Jester said as a sip of hot chocolate left foam on her lip. “It’s been _so_ long since we last talked!”

“I saw you on Friday.”

“Exactly.”

Yasha nodded faintly, but continued to sit there in confused silence. And eventually, unable to bear it any longer, Jester leaned forward and sighed.

“Okay, okay, okay, I _do_ have a second reason why I asked you out today.”

“Ah. I see,” said Yasha, with the air of someone who absolutely did not see, and was still trying to figure out why she was even here.

Jester seemed oblivious to this. “I _did_ want to spend time with you,” she was saying, “don’t worry there, but I _also_ wanted to ask you some questions. About…Molly.”

Yasha blinked. She set her scone down and leaned forward. “ _Molly_? What…why Molly?”

“We think there might be something wrong with him,” she explained. “But nobody seems to know anything, so you’re probably our best bet. And I’m _really_ starting to get worried.”

“Why?” Yasha frowned. “Did something happen?”

Jester shrugged. She lifted her mug, and took another sip. “ _That_ , Yasha, is what I’m trying to find out.”

\--------------------------------------

In the soft afternoon light of a day started late, Beauregard emerged from her bedroom and trudged out into the hallway. Her tank top was askew, her shorts stained with sodas of long, long ago, and her hair stuck up in odd angles around her head. Her shawl, as she walked, drifted out behind her, and her bare feet clapped against wood.

Through a sleepy fog, she made her way into the kitchen and immediately beelined for the coffeemaker.

Eventually, she got the machine to start working. There was a pile of mail sitting on the counter behind her, so she spilled into a bar stool and sifted through it as she waited.

“Boring…boring…boring,” she slid bills and spam aside. Another letter was addressed to Jester—she would have to deliver that herself later—and then…and then…

A white square envelope, made of heavy paper. She turned it over curiously.

Her expression immediately soured.

With a loud groan, she got up and walked over to the drawers. She found a knife, stuck its blade under the flap, then peeled the letter open.

She shook it. A single square card fell out.

She picked it up. She stared at it.

She bit her lip, and tried to relax.

Three pairs of eyes were gazing back at her. Two of the faces wore awful mechanical smiles, but the third, much smaller, had an expression that suggested it had just barely started solid foods and couldn’t be bothered to participate, at the moment.

Beau scowled even harder at the words underneath. She still had a knife in one hand. Maybe it would make her feel better if she put the blade to work.

She traced each letter with a finger shaking in anger.

_Thinking of you, this holiday season!  
_ _Happy New Dawn, from the Lionnets_

A few minutes passed. Electric with fury, barely repressed.

Then Beau just sighed. She lowered her hand.

She shoved the card and the knife into the drawer.

She turned around, found her mug, poured herself a cup of coffee, and didn’t even bother with the milk or the sugar.

\--------------------------------------

Burnished Bibleots, for a store run by an elderly half-blind gnome nearing his fifth century, was a surprisingly lively establishment. Every inch of the place was crammed with shelves, drawers, hanging baskets and carboard boxes, cluttered tables and racks of hangers and hundreds and hundreds of hidden nooks. Knickknacks and bric-a-brac and baubles and more lined every dust-packed corner, spilled from tiny pockets of wood and swamped the walls with their endless tide.

It was a hoarder’s dream and a janitor’s nightmare. Not a single customer ever left without having found at least some variation on what they were looking for, and as long as money wasn’t an object—even sometimes when it was—you could buy anything and everything at all your heart desired. _All_ items in this shop were for sale, even the shelves housing the merchandise, and the only things off limits were the front counter, the cash register, and the heart of old Oglen Hornsblower himself.

Unless, of course, you happened to be a certain young goblin.

He and Nott had established a rather strange rapport over the years, a mixture of initial mutual distrust and apprehension, curbed by a respect for the others’ stubbornness, then the shared solidarity of being small folk in a big city. In the end, this combination had somehow warped into an odd sort of friendship, and now Nott looked forward to pawning stolen items off in Oglen’s store almost as much as he looked forward to her company.

Caleb wondered if, outside this shop, the old gnome had any family. He’d seen him lingering around the shelves long after sunset on a number of occasions, and figured he likely didn’t.

The bell over the door chimed softly as they entered, stirring Oglen out of a nap. As he glanced around wildly, Nott marched up to the counter with a pouch of merchandise in one hand and a cheerful wave in the other. They started arguing almost instantly, with the happy knowledge that whatever happened, neither of them would walk away satisfied if the other had anything to say about it.

Meanwhile, Caleb made his way towards the back of the shop, where the books were kept.

He crouched down in front of a wide shelf, knee-deep in a sea of dusty cardboard boxes. Breathing would be difficult here, but he’d had a fair amount of practice over the years. He lifted his scarf up over his face like a makeshift mask, and took a seat on one of the stacks of books.

Then he reached into his coat and produced a tome of his own.

 _Magic to change reality_ , he thought. _Magic to change someone’s shape._

He thumbed through a few of his pages until he landed on the spell he was searching for. Then he raised a hand in the air, let a few arcane symbols drift from his fingers, watched them fade into the gloom as the incantation took hold.

Time to see what Oglen had for him today.

\--------------------------------------

“He hasn’t mentioned _anything_ to you? Nothing at _all_?”

“No, not really.”

Jester groaned and leaned back in her chair. “Drat,” she muttered, stirring her hot chocolate morosely. “I thought for _sure_ you would have something.”

“Sorry.” Yasha had a blueberry muffin in her hands now, and was living life to the fullest. “I wish I could help, but the truth is that Molly and I have not even seen each other since the new year began. We do not spend much time together, these days.”

“What?” Jester sat up. “Why not, Yasha?”

She shrugged. “The Moondrop is closed. We are no longer roommates.”

Jester’s shoulders fell slightly. “Is that sad?” she asked. “Do you miss him?”

 “Of course. But he is still around, I can pester him for important things.”

“Awwww, well, I’m happy for that, at least.”

“Thank you.” Yasha took a thoughtful bite of muffin. “But why are you asking if there are things wrong, in the first place? _Did_ something actually happen to him?”

Jester sighed and heaved her backpack into her lap. She fished around the pockets for a few moments, then produced her phone and laid it gently on the table.

“Take a look at these texts,” she said. “Caduceus sent them yesterday. Apparently Molly’s been bringing people over for…you know, canoodling,” and here Jester wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis. “Me and Fjord are worried that maybe Molly and Caleb had a fight.”

“ _Really_?” Yasha glanced up from the screen. “When?”

“Remember during the party, when they left to go have a talk on the balcony? And we all sat inside and ate popcorn and pretended to do the words?”

“…vaguely?”

“And then remember how it got really, _really_ intense,” Jester continued, “and even though most of you guys were drunk, me and Fjord kept watching? And I think Caduceus was watching too, but I’m not sure.”

Yasha considered this for a few moments. “I may also have been drunk, at the time.”

Jester set her backpack back down. “Yeah, I think you were too. But, uh, about that, me and Fjord sort of have a feeling that Molly’s going through a funk because of whatever happened between him and Caleb. And…we want to figure out what that was, so we can help.” Then, almost as an afterthought she added, “Also, we should probably get Molly to stop bringing people over, otherwise Caduceus might kill him. Or the visitors.”

Yasha chuckled, nodding softly. “Molly can be a bit…much, when he’s going through something. It may help if he has a distraction.”

“A distraction, huh?” Jester brightened up. “Like what?”

Yasha shrugged. “It could be anything. Before, at least, he would spend time rehearsing at the Moondrop, and would hang out often with the troupe. But now that it is destroyed, and we are separate, he has probably been mostly by himself. At least before, he was distracted by Caleb. Now…perhaps he is just lonely?”

“Lonely…” Jester scratched her chin. “Lonely…the Moondrop…but you guys _have_ the money to fix it now, right?”

“Yes,” Yasha nodded, “I believe Gustav got it yesterday.”

Jester’s face broke into a wide grin.

“Hey, Yasha?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think Gustav wants help getting it running again?”

\--------------------------------------

Beau was doing chin-ups in the hallway to prepare for her weekly check-in (thrashing) at the Cobalt Soul this Friday, when a series of loud knocks rattled the front door. She almost didn’t notice, over the blaring music in her ears, but it was just forceful enough to graze the edge of her hearing.

She dropped down, pulled her headphones out, and then a voice bled in through the wood.

“Open up!” Molly kicked the wall outside for good measure. “Come on, come on, we haven’t got all day!”

Beau immediately rolled her eyes. She grabbed a water bottle on the way over, and threw open the door.

“Gods, _what_?” She leaned against the doorframe. “Is it the apocalypse? Why are you at my house?”

Molly’s grin could have cut diamonds. “I can’t tell you until we’re inside,” he whispered. “The walls out here have ears.”

Beau accepted this as a sufficient greeting and waved for him to come inside. He kicked his shoes off into the tray, removed his jacket with a twirl, then headed for the living room sofa. He sank into the cushions and propped his feet onto the table.

Beau pushed his legs back onto the ground and stared at him expectantly. “Well?” she asked. “What’s so fuckin’ secretive that you’re invading my house, now?”

“Well, well, friendly as always,” Molly chuckled, reaching his hands into his pockets. “And here I thought you’d be happy to see I have a gift for you.”

She paused, and suspicion crept into her tone.

“…a gift?”

Molly winked. “Take a look.”

With a flourish, he raised an arm over his head and revealed two strange little packets sitting in the middle of his palm. They were transparent, matchbook-sized, completely unlabeled and filled with a nondescript grey powder that glittered slightly in the light as Beau picked one up and examined it.

“The fuck is this?” she asked slowly. “Where’d you get this?”

“It’s called skein.” Molly grinned and waved his own packet around in the air. “Got it from a…a friend. Apparently it lets you see some _crazy_ stuff. Want to try it with me?”

Beau’s eyebrows disappeared above her hairline. “Wait, wait, gods, wait _what_?” Now she held the packet at arm’s length. “This lets you do _what_? _Who_ gave this to you?”

Molly’s grin grew wider. “A friend! And come on, I _know_ you heard me, let’s _do_ this.”

Beau immediately burst out laughing. And then, when Molly’s expression didn’t change, she stopped. She sat down at the edge of the coffee table.

She stared.

“Are you _seriously_ asking me to do drugs with you?”

Molly shrugged. “What else?”

“Dude, what the fuck.”

He rolled his eyes and threw his arms up over the back of the couch. “Come _on_!” he urged, giving her a relaxed grin. “This is what we’re supposed to _do_ , isn’t it? We’re young, we’re dumb—”

“— _you’re_ dumb—”

“—I’m dumb, and I’m sure _you’re_ bored out of your mind. Life’s all about trying new things and living every second to the fullest! We’ve got to do as much as we can before we die, right? Come _on_ , Beau. What do you say?”

She continued to stare at him. There was a strange sort of desperation in his eyes, a manic gleam to his cheer, and the answer was instantly ready at the tip of her tongue: a firm rejection, a solid “no,” a prod into whether or not he was even _okay_ —

—and then Beau’s gaze trailed into the kitchen.

She remembered the cutlery drawer.

She remembered the card. With those faces, staring back at her.

 _From the Lionnets_ , it had said.

From the Lionnets, indeed.

She sighed. Her shoulders eased. Her face turned back to him and she rolled her eyes and before she could even start to regret it, she shrugged and stuck out her hand.

Her eyes were hard, but that didn’t matter to either of them.

“Fine,” she said. “Fine, alright, let’s do it. Why the fuck not, I guess.”

Molly grinned and nodded. His was an empty smile.

“ _That’s_ the spirit, dear.”

\--------------------------------------

At some point in the afternoon, Nott had vanished through some drawers and re-emerged with a slightly dusty flask, massive in her hands, made of solid platinum. It had a sort of decorative flourish engraved into the side, and it shone silver with the light of Nott’s enormous eyes.

“I’ll be back,” she had said, barely breathing to not tarnish the metal. “I…I _gotta_ talk to Oglen, I’ll be back.”

Then she had scurried off, leaving Caleb still seated on a pile of books, peacefully sifting through another pile.

This stack was mostly classics, novels he’d read as a student and entertaining volumes he’d combed through long ago. Some were fiction, some were not, some were real but so fantastical to seem almost unbelievable. He’d even stumbled across a few…more mature titles, though nothing quite as interesting as _Tusk Love_ or _Feathered Leather_. Still, he’d made a point set aside any Jester might like.

And then, as he reached the bottom of this pile, his fingers brushed against a soft, faded cover.

Later on, he’d wonder if this was a cruel joke of fate. In the moment, he pulled it free and read the title:

 _Before the River’s Dawn_.

One of his old favorites. A love story, about two ancient spirits who could never be together.

And, Caleb remembered, because his heart would never forget, this was the first book he’d ever recommended to Molly.

Molly, who had _loved_ it.

He let the worn pages rub gently against his hand. In the distance, through the shelves, he could hear the muffled chatter of Nott trying to haggle down a purchase.

Caleb set the book down. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone, and found the first random message received with Molly’s name.

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Yesterday | 10:09PM

 **NottSoBrave:** I can come, but Caleb says he’s busy  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** awwwwwww okayyyyyyy  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** :(((((((((((  
**Lavender Thunder:** I’m free!  
**Lavender Thunder:** cad and I can host, if we do wednesday  
**(** **✿** **´ ω** **｀** **):** sounds alright with me  
**Babebarian:** beauregard and I are around then  
**Drunkmonk:** me and yash can defo come  
**Drunkmonk:** wb fjord?  
**Seaman:** I’ve got work that night, I can come but I gotta leave early  
**Lavender Thunder:** (o^-’)b 

Caleb leaned back against the wall and wondered what would happen if he were to place his thumb to the keyboard. If he were to type out a quick message. If he were to, for once, answer for himself.

Then Caleb thought back to _those_ texts, the flood of over three hundred messages he could only assume were never meant to be seen. He wondered what would happen if Molly knew he _had_ seen them, had read them, had read every single word and sigh carved across both their screens.

He wondered what Molly was doing, right now. He wondered if he even deserved to know.

\--------------------------------------

Beau stared up at the ceiling. Grey shapes swirled around the lights like fish in a ghostly sea.

“You know what’s _weird_?”

Molly’s head turned. He was hanging off the side of the couch, horns dangling so low they grazed the carpet.

“What, dear?”

She lifted a hand. She watched a smoky creature curl gently around her fingers.

“I think…we could be friends.”

There was a laugh, low and bubbly.

“What, _really_?”

She shrugged. She followed a fin across her palm. “Yeah. I mean…yeah. Why not, right?”

Molly considered this.

“Okay,” he said eventually. “Yeah, alright.”

There was followed by silence. Then:

“You know,” said Molly, gazing back up at the sky, “it occurs to me that I never really had a childhood.”

More silence. The fish swam on. One opened its maw wide and drank in a stream of silver air.

“What if…what if you _had_ a childhood, but it wasn’t really _your_ childhood, so you never really had your _own_ childhood, and everything that happened to you as a kid was meant to happen to someone else, but for a while, at least, it was all on you instead?”

A final pause. The fish turned, clapping its tail against waves that no one saw.

“Gods, what _happened_ to you?”

\--------------------------------------

The Leaky Tap Tavern & Karaoke Bar was the sort of place where worries went to die.

So what, if your singing sounded like seagulls fighting to death over an ocean made of dissonant chords? So what, if you drank like there was no tomorrow and had so many sorrows they practically spilled from your ears? Who cared, if you thought throwing up on people was the best way to say hello, and what did it matter, if city regulations meant you were supposed to have a special license if you wanted to sell liquor so hard it smelled like nail varnish and spoiled paint?

Nothing mattered at the Leaky Tap, which is why folks came here in the first place.

Fjord was on bar duty tonight, and was currently in the middle of mixing a cocktail that could have killed a small cow. Some nights, when the music was too loud or the lights too bright, when the air smelled too sick and the heat was too harsh, he’d miss the relative peace of Fletch, and his old job by the river.

But he was lucky enough that Wessick had had an opening in the first place, and decent pay wasn’t anything to scoff at.

Tonight was about as crowded as it got on Tuesdays, which meant that there was barely any room to move. This was a big city, after all, and the Leaky Tap was a popular club.

So popular, in fact, that it appeared like there was a fair bit of congestion forming around the entrance. Fjord hadn’t paid it too much attention, at the start, but about ten seconds ago, the grumbles of annoyance had swelled into shouting, and for even the most hardened bar employee, this was something to watch.

Fjord glanced over. Then he picked his jaw back up from the ground.

As he raced around the counter, a few snatches of conversation carried up and across the noise:

“Your _ID_ , you idiot, I need an _ID_.”

“I told you, sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you _mean_ , you don’t know? An ID’s an ID, you stupid cow, if you don’t have that, then move on!”

“I think you might be angry, so I won’t be offended, but I really must get in—”

“And _I’m_ gonna clock you over the head if—”

Fjord burst out from the crowd, hair plastered against his forehead and shirt drenched from the run.

“He’s with me,” he said breathlessly. “Sorry, sorry, he’s not from around here. Easily confused.”

Both the bouncer and Caduceus Clay stopped their arguing and stared at him.

“Fjord!” the enormous firbolg beamed. “I was just telling this gentleman that—”

“He’s with you?” the bouncer asked.

Fjord gave an exhausted nod.

“Fine, fine.” The bouncer sighed and crossed his arms. “But you should explain things better to your friends. The folks outside were gettin’ impatient.”

“Sorry again,” Fjord grabbed Caduceus by the arm. “I’ll, ah, I’ll take him from here.”

It was a spectacular sight to behold, the way Caduceus’s lanky, fur-covered body towered above the crowd as he was dragged through the dance floor and over to the bar. His hair caught against the light, and even a few drunk dancers whistled.

Eventually, they reached their destination. Fjord plopped his friend against a stool before walking around the counter and back to his post. Then he leaned across the bar, and straight into Caduceus’s eyes.

“What the _fuck_ are _you_ doing here?”

\--------------------------------------

Nott poured herself a drink, and then poured that drink into her new flask. She took a small swig, swirled it around her mouth, then looked over at Caleb and gave him a thumbs-up.

He nodded approvingly. “No lead? None at all?”

“Not that I can tell!” she hopped onto a chair and leaned over the kitchen table. “What are you working on, there?”

“Oh, ah…” Caleb spun a notebook around to show her. “Here, here, take a look. I am copying some of the spells from that old journal I got today. It was a very good find, Nott, a _very_ good find.”

She peered in closer. “This looks like some real magic,” she said solemnly. “Should I leave you to it?”

He reached over and ruffled her hair. “If you like,” he said. “If I am being honest, I have not felt this relaxed in a number of days.”

“And you’re learning even more now, yeah?”

He grinned. “Exactly, _spatz_. Exactly.”

\--------------------------------------

Caduceus stared dejectedly into his milk. It was, by Fjord’s own admission, the best he could do at a place like this. And really, the slightly chunky quality to the drink was only _mildly_ off-putting. In fact, it kind of looked like how Caduceus was feeling, at the moment. He took a very careful sip.

“You know,” said Fjord, standing in front of him and polishing a glass like a bartender in a 1950s black-and-white film, “you _could_ try talking to Mol about it. He’s not an unreasonable guy, just…dense.”

Caduceus swirled his cup around. “I just don’t want to make things worse,” he sighed. “Usually I have a feeling about situations like these, and I know for _sure_ that Molly is hurting, but I’m worried I don’t know him well enough to nudge him onto the right path. He’s in a fragile state, and I’ve only been his roommate for a couple weeks. I want to make sure he’s still open to talking to me, once he realizes that he’s dealing with his feelings the wrong way.”

“That’s fair,” Fjord sighed. “He might not take kindly to…parenting, at the moment.”

“Ideally,” Cad nodded, after taking another sip of the terror-milk, “he’ll run out of steam on his own. And _then_ , I can help him pick up the pieces.”

“But _your_ life’s all disrupted while this happens,” Fjord noted. “From what you said, your house is practically a…a…a slop-dolly of limbs ‘n carnal desires.”

“A what?”

“There are naked people everywhere.”

Caduceus nodded glumly. He took another swig, then shuddered.

“Hang on,” Fjord said quickly, “I’ll go get you some water.”

When he returned, Caduceus accepted the glass gratefully and wiped at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“Do you think Molly would take poorly to me asking him to…settle down?” he asked after a long drink. “Maybe we can work out a system. Every other night, he can have someone over.”

Fjord nodded supportively. “That sounds pretty generous to me. Give it a shot. And worst comes to worst, you can bunk with me and Jes. I promise, no hanky-panky when you’re around.”

Caduceus chuckled. He reached out, raising his water into the air. “Thanks, Fjord. It’s nice to know I’ve got people willing to help.”

Fjord grinned. He filled another glass with water and clinked his drink against Caduceus’s.

“Those are called ‘friends,’ Cad. Like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”

\--------------------------------------

Yasha arrived home that evening with concern at the front of her mind. Jester’s words had weighed on her heavily, and though the two of them had eventually branched out into other topics—movies, city events, Beauregard, Fjord, the impending arrival of Nugget—she hadn’t been able to shake the new worries she had about Molly.

Thank the gods for Gustav, truly, who had come through as he always did for his troupe. Even disbanded and broken as they were, the man had been thrilled to hear from Yasha, and delighted at the prospect of getting extra help.

She tugged the front door shut behind her and moved to slip her snowy boots off into the tray. Later, she thought to herself, she could ask Molly if he’d want to come to the Moondrop with her tomorrow. Maybe after dinner, though hopefully he wouldn’t be out ton—

Yasha blinked. She took an incredulous step forward.

“B- _Beauregard_? Mollymauk, what are you _doing_?”

Beau’s head rose over the couch like an eagle up through the fog.

“Yasha!” the young woman broke into a slow, wide smile. “Hey, Yasha, hey! Welcome home!”

Molly lifted himself up too, and then quickly jerked around a patch of empty air as if there was something there. “Whoops, whoops, hello, dear! Come in, come in, don’t mind the fish.”

Yasha blinked again. She carefully glanced around, but saw no sign of fin or scales.

She took another step closer. And as she approached, she noted the strange way Beau’s pupils had doubled in size. Molly’s eyes betrayed nothing, but there was an odd lilt to his smile.

She considered this evidence, then watched Molly dodge around another invisible object. Beauregard looked emotionally vulnerable, and that was concerning too. Yasha was no detective, but she certainly wasn’t an idiot.

“Are you two…did you two take _drugs_?”

Molly beamed over his already enormous grin. “Ah, there’s no getting around her, eh? What a smart woman you are, dear.”

“The smartest,” Beau nodded emphatically. “ _So_ smart.”

Yasha sighed. She dropped her bag onto the ground and made her way into the living room, which was hindered slightly by her addled friends telling her she couldn’t walk in certain places, for fear of disrupting “the fish.”

“They just seem so nice, you know?” Beau gestured wildly at something only 2/3 of them could see, about six inches above Yasha’s head. “I don’t wanna bug ‘em.”

“Of course.” Yasha took a seat on the sofa, and Molly immediately flopped over into her lap. “Just out of curiosity, how…how _long_ have you been able to see them, for?”

“Feels like years,” Beau shrugged. “Probably minutes.”

“What time is it?” asked the tiefling on her leg. “I don’t even know how long this lasts.”

Yasha raised an eyebrow. “What _is_ it, exactly?”

“Skein.”

“Is hallucinations all it does?”

“Eh, I dunno.”

“That is not helpful.”

“Sorry, dear.”

She sighed and ran a hand through Molly’s hair. She glanced up at Beau, saw an inexplicable expression across the monk’s face, and interpreted this as discomfort.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked with concern. “I do not…I have no idea how to help either of you, at the moment.”

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing with your hands,” Molly suggested. “It feels _heavenly_.”

Beau shrugged. “It’ll…stop at some point, probably, you know? _Probably_. But I should go get some water. I should…yeah, I’ll get water to drink.”

She picked herself up off the couch and made it to the kitchen with only mild distress. Then there were a few clanging noises, but this was followed by slow, half-hearted swearing, so Yasha figured she was fine.

Instead, she glanced down at Molly, whose eyes were closed in her lap.

“My friend,” she murmured softly, “what _happened_ to you?”

He hummed gently. “Nothing much,” he said. “And sorry you weren’t around, we could’ve invited you for some too.”

Yasha sighed again. “I meant, _why_ are you doing things like this, again? You have not, for so long.”

Molly snorted. He peeked one eye open. “Yeah, and it was _so_ boring. I remembered what it was like to have _fun_ again, dear! And these fish really know how to party.”

“I do not see any fish here.”

“What a shame. They’re quite pretty.”

“You know, if there is something wrong, you can tell me,” Yasha murmured. “I…am not very wise, or very clever, but I do care about you. And I will do what I can to help.”

Molly chuckled. “There’s no helping me,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing that needs any fixing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

His expression only shifted for an instant. He shrugged, as best as he could while lying down in someone’s lap.

“Tell me something good,” he said. “Tell me something better.”

She gave him a faint smile. “I actually do have good news for you, Molly. Gustav wants us to meet him at the Moondrop, tomorrow. He says he needs help, and we are the best ones for the job.”

He shot up quickly, or at least at a speed he thought was fast. To Yasha, it looked about as quick as molasses, and nowhere near as smooth. She helped lean him against the couch.

“What, _really_?” he asked when he recovered. “ _Really_?”

She nodded. “Yes. So, unless you are busy—”

He waved a hand. “Are you kidding? I’d go _tonight,_ if I didn’t think you wouldn’t let me move.”

“You are correct in that assumption.”

Molly gave a laugh. In the background, Beau was trying and failing to drink directly from the faucet.

“You know, dear,” he said with a soft sigh, “I really _have_ missed that place. It didn’t feel…it didn’t feel _real_ when we won the Pit together, and it hasn’t felt real that the Moondrop’s coming back. But, oh, to _see_ it again, I just…” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Just the thought of it is making me feel a little less empty again.”

Yasha’s face instantly went slack. “Hang on, hang on…empty?” she said softly. “You…Molly, you were feeling empty?”

He shrugged. “Maybe a bit, maybe a bit, it doesn’t matter.”

Yasha shook her head. She took his hand carefully. “Molly, if you were, why didn’t you _tell_ me? Is that why you are doing drugs, today? Have you done them also, before?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “Hadn’t felt like it until now.”

“Until n—”

He shook his head again, much harder. His horn charms jingled in the silence. “Don’t _worry_ though, Yash. If the Moondrop’s comin’ back, I won’t feel like it again, will I? I can fill my silly heart up with something else, eh? Something that won’t leave me, eh? Something that always comes _back_.”

She frowned. “Something that w—”

He shot up to his feet, and wobbled only slightly.

“I’m gonna get a drink too,” he declared. “I’ll probably need it. Does skein give you a hangover?”

“I do not have a clue.”

“Ah, we can find out, together!”

He made to walk away, but Yasha reached out and took his hand.

“Wait,” she said quietly. “Just…just…wait. Molly…please, _why_ did you try a strange substance tonight? Really. Please, I need to know.”

He grinned madly. His eyes glittered like gems and he giggled—almost to himself—with an edge of faint desperation.

“Haven’t you heard, my dear? Stuff like this…they say stuff like this…it’s supposed to make you feel better!”

Yasha watched him trip into the kitchen, sling an arm around Beau’s neck and knock the water from her hands. They were both going to be disasters tomorrow, that she already knew, and could do nothing about.

But after tomorrow… _after_ that…to make sure this never happened _again_ …

Yasha had to do _something_. And she just knew…she just _knew_ , she was going to need some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! I know this chapter was a little dark, but hopefully things will get happier soon!! Also I'm getting back now to the "weekend updates" schedule, so y'all can expect a (not as speedy update) around sometime next saturday/sunday!! 
> 
> As always, please consider leaving comments/kudos! I love reading everything y'all have to say, and it means the world to mean to know how you feel about this lil fic, and especially when y'all reccomend this story to your friends. I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com), and all my drabbles and such are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!


	31. To the Tune of TV Static

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaannnnd I'm back from vacay! Here we go, featuring: conversations at the gym, homecoming, an anti-drug PSA, a guest makes an appearance, the beginning of the plan, a deep conversation, movie night 2(million), the itty bitty kitty committee, caduceus's turn

“Hey, is everything alright?” Fjord asked. “You seem kind of…tired.”

Beau glanced up at him. She was seated down on the fitness room’s mat, her legs extended and her fingers wrapped around her feet. The crisp winter morning clung like fog against the windows, and sunlight streamed in around them like waves of gentle heat.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” she shrugged, “last night was just a bit rough.”

Fjord raised his eyebrows. He put his not-very-large kettlebell down, and took a step towards her.

“Did you not sleep well?” he asked. “Or is this a, uh, a Yasha-related thing?”

Beau snorted. “Gods, I _wish_. No, it was…” Her arms slowly fell to her sides. “It was sort of, it was sort of…actually, it was about my parents.”

“Oh.” Fjord blinked. “Oh, _shit_.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “tell me about it.”

Fjord took a seat on the bench behind him. “No, no, tell _me_ about it,” he said. “What happened?”

Beau instantly looked away. She bit her lip. And in the silence, Fjord hastily backpedaled and raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Shit,” he said, “shit, sorry, you don’t have to, it’s just…” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “You, uh, you were there for me, when I was freaking out about my magic,” he murmured. “So I thought, if you want, I can listen to you. If, if you want,” he added again.  

There was a moment’s pause. Beau folded her knees against her chest, and sighed.

“It’s the dumbest thing in the world,” she said. “And really, it’s not even that bad.”

“But it’s still bad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, _maybe_.”

Fjord nodded. He made a ‘go on’ gesture with his hands.

Beau stared down at the mat. She took a deep breath.

“My, uh, my parents sent me a postcard,” she said eventually. “It was one of those dumb holiday ones, that stupid rich families always custom-make for the new year.”

“Sure,” said Fjord, who had neither been stupid rich nor even had family. “Is there something…that you hate about that?”

“Ha! It’s not somethin’, it’s _everything_ ,” Beau said. “I mean, the whole point of those stupid things is to show off in the dumbest way possible. And sometimes that’s with a collage of bullshit vacation pictures in stupid expensive resorts, and sometimes it’s with a bunch of gold lettering and frilly fuckin’ trimming, _or_ , if you’re like _my_ family, it’s with a big dumb portrait stamped across the front. And every fucking year you gotta get dressed up and go to the stupid grand hall in front of the giant dumb staircase with your hair done and with jewelry on, and there’s some professional asshole photographer who takes thirty years to do his job and it’s the biggest waste of time in the world and I absolutely _hated_ it and this fucking year…this….fucking _this year_ , they did the stupid thing without me.”

The lights overhead buzzed softly in the silence that followed. The rest of the gym was empty, save for an old halfling man tucked away in a corner, atop a grinding treadmill, headphones in and listening to a song all of his own.

Beau gave a mournful laugh. She wiped a fist against her cheeks.

“They even wrote ‘ _From the Lionnets_ ’ at the bottom,” she sighed. “Can you fuckin’ believe it?”

Fjord tried to meet her eyes. When he failed, he just nodded softly.

“I…I’m sorry, Beau.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Yeah, well, it was whatever. And anyways,” she added, “back to the original point. I didn’t sleep much last night because I did drugs with Molly, since I felt like shit about my family.”

Fjord scrambled to catch himself from falling off the bench. He managed to post up on an elbow, and his face shot up to meet Beau with incredulity.

“You did _what_?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I did drugs. Are you okay?”

“Am _I_ …am _I_ okay _—_ ” Fjord threw his hands up into the air. “ _Beau_ , oh my gods, that’s not…that isn’t…fuck, you can’t just _do_ that! What the _fuck_!”

“Jeez, what do you want from me? It’s not like I’ll do it again.”

Fjord struggled to find the right words. After a few moments of strained screaming, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“Really?” he asked, as if he didn’t know what else to say. “I mean… _really_? You don’t feel…I dunno, addicted, or anything?”

“Nah,” Beau shrugged. “And honestly, it didn’t even help that much. It was mostly just…weird. Like, everything was sort of blurry and soft, and there was a lot of like, fish and stuff, floating around my face, and then my whole body hurt, and it was basically regret city, population: me.”

“Gods above, what did you _take_?”

She shrugged again. “It was something Molly gave me. I can’t remember what it was called, but he said he got it from a friend of his.”

Fjord immediately groaned. “A ‘friend’ of his, huh?”

“Yeah?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s what he told me, why?”

“Remember that conversation we had in the subway, a few days ago?” he asked. “About how me and Jes think Molly’s goin’ through some rough times?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, Cad visited me at the bar last night,” he sighed. “Apparently Molly’s been seeing all _kinds_ of people. In bars, and stuff. And bringin’ all sorts home to have fun with, if you know what I mean.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with that,” Beau said, almost instantly. “That’s not a bad thing, Fjord. And anyways, didn’t he used to do that sort of stuff all the time?”

“Yeah,” Fjord conceded, “yeah, and I know there isn’t anything wrong with casual…you know, casual…”

“—sex—”

He coughed. “Right. But, uh, in Molly’s case, it’s a bit…much. Like, too much to be healthy. And I think the general Mighty Nein consensus is that he’s rebounding ‘cause something happened between him and Caleb.”

Beau swore. “Shit, _really_?”

“As far as we can tell,” he nodded. “You know, we should probably make a group chat to figure where everyone can say what they know, or something, because we all…wait. Wait a second, wait.”

He stopped and pointed a finger at Beau. “We’re getting _way_ off track. I think we need to circle back.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Circle back?” she asked. “To what?”

“Well, I mean, you _did_ do drugs last night,” Fjord reminded her. “That _can’t_ be a good sign, right?”

“I mean…it’s not…I _guess_ it’s…”

“You _guess_?”

Beau scowled and stuck her tongue out at him. “I _guess_ it’s not a good sign,” she admitted begrudgingly. “But, uh, if it makes you less stressed out, it... _did_ help me a bit, earlier, when I told you, uh, when I told you what happened. I feel...better. Not, you know, not fixed or anything, but...better.”

A faint smile broke across Fjord’s face. “Is that so?”

Beau’s eyes instantly narrowed. “Don’t push it,” she warned. “I don’t want you getting all mushy on me.”

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled and raised his hands. “I promise, no mush. But really, I mean _really_ , I am glad I could help. You, uh, you scared me for a second, there.”

“Sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine, just…don’t do anything crazy before you talk to someone about it, okay?”

“You’re not my _mom_ , Fjord.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why you can talk to me.”

She made a face at him, but there was a faint hum of gratitude in her response:

“Thanks,” she huffed. “I’ll, uh, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

\--------------------------------------

The inside of the Fletching and Moondrop Rooftop Club and Lounge, est. 993 P.D. by a one Gustav Fletching and a one Desmond Moondrop, looked like the sea-torn hull of a shipwrecked schooner, lost years ago to a savage blizzard.

On this gentle winter morning, Molly, Yasha, Gustav, and an army of surveyors, all looked up at the roof and stared.

It was a good job they’d won so much money from the pit, because in terms of unforeseen damage, this one really took the prize. At some point in the months since the Moondrop had been operational, the frequent snowfall and subzero temperatures had frozen the pipes solid and, even worse, had weighed down so heavily on the roof that a section of it had collapsed. Now there was a new spotlight, so to speak, shining down on the middle of the hall, letting in sunlight as well as more ice and snow.

This was, of course, on top of the already destroyed mounds of furniture, wrecked stage, loose wiring, frozen trails of leftover slime, and a few scattered bursts of soot and ash scored deeply into the walls.

Gustav sat down on a still-intact section of the bar with his head in his hands. Then he peeked one eye open and looked up at the surveyors.

“How long?” he murmured.

The contractor in charge, an orcish woman who alone looked like she could build a house from scratch, gave this a thoughtful pause. She chewed on the end of her pencil.

“Give it…five months? If we aren’t done by then, ask me again.”

Gustav breathed a sigh of relief. “Five, eh?” He nodded quickly. “That doesn’t sound _too_ bad, right?”

“You might want to check for squatters while my boys get started,” the woman suggested. “I’ve got a heavy hammer in the trunk, but that’ll cost you extra.”

Like a rising mountain, Yasha stood and shook her head. “Do not worry,” she said softly. “I will handle them.”

Molly quickly scrambled after her, grabbing a loose wooden plank as he ran. “Don’t worry!” he called over his shoulder to the rest. “I’ll make sure nobody gets hurt!”

\--------------------------------------

Jester leaned across the table and stuck her head under Caleb’s nose.

“But what do you _mean_ you aren’t coming?” she demanded, rolling over and nearly smacking him with a horn. “It’s a _time-honored_ tradition! We _always_ do it, every week! You _have_ to come, you _have_ to!”

Caleb sighed, and put his pencil down. “Jester,” he said quietly, “Jester, first of all, it is not always every week. Secondly, as I know Nott told you yesterday, I am very busy tonight. And thirdly, please do not shout in my library, please use your inside-voice. And also number four, you are interrupting a lesson.”

“It’s alright,” said Calianna, giving the pair of them a faint smile. “We could use a break, I don’t mind.”

“See?” Jester waved her hands around, returning Cali’s smile with a grin. “And anyways, actually, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you! How’ve you been? How was your new year?”

“Oh, well, it was pretty quiet—”

Caleb pointedly cleared his throat. Cali looked embarrassed, Jester absolutely did not.

“I’m in the middle of a conversation,” she teased. “Can I help you?”

Caleb sighed again. “Jester, please. You are being…difficult.”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Cali tried again. “And, if I’m being completely honest, Mister Caleb, I think… _maybe_ …it would be alright to end early? We’ve done so much I can hardly remember it all, anymore.”

“Ooh, is that what you’re studying?” Jester started poking her hands through their notes. “Is this for your classes?”

Cali nodded enthusiastically. “It’s for Comparative Religions of the Pre-Divergence Era! It’s quite an interesting class, but I’m having a bit of trouble with the readings, so I thought I’d ask Mister Caleb to help me review the—oh.”

Caleb had already left the table. He was now standing a few feet off towards their left, browsing through a section of bookshelves with the air of someone who was waiting for his friends to notice he was ignoring them.

Jester rolled her eyes and pulled Cali up from her chair. “Hey, hey, I know a _great_ café,” she said cheerfully. “If you want, we can go there to catch up!”

“What? Oh, ah, sure, sure—"

“Want to come too, Caleb?” Jester motioned towards him. “I miss you, we haven’t talked in _ages!_ ”

He glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “We spent literally all of Friday together.”

“That was on _Friday_ , silly. Come on, I’m buying?”

Cali blinked. “You are?”

Caleb gave a sigh and turned back to his shelf. “That is a kind offer,” he said quietly, “but no thank you. I think I would like to be alone, for now.”

Jester made a peculiar face that he completely missed. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said pointedly, “I suppose you’d want to relax _now_ , since you’re going to be too busy to hang out with us later, right?”

He winced. Just barely, but it was there.

“ _Ja_ , right.”

There was a brief pause. Caleb stared intently at the frayed binding of a nearby book. Then, finally, after what felt like an hour, Jester sighed in defeat.

“Alright, alright, but don’t think you can run away forever!” she declared. “You _will_ come hang out with me soon, mark my words!”

Despite the situation, a faintly relieved smile crept across Caleb’s lips. He gave a slow nod, and stepped back from the shelves.

“Alright, Jester,” he murmured. “Consider them marked.”

\--------------------------------------

“Er…Molly?”

“Yes, Yasha-dear?”

“How are you doing, after yesterday?”

The two of them were walking through the backrooms of the Moondrop now, their breath warming the chilled air around them and their eyes bright in the darkness. Molly had his scarf pulled up tightly around his shoulders, and Yasha’s boots crunched against floorboards dusted with frost.

“I’m fine,” Molly shrugged. He was still carrying that plank of wood. “Though I must say, the skein wore off faster than I thought, and made me feel much shittier, for much longer afterwards.”

Yasha sighed. She peered into an empty doorway, then shook her head and moved on. “I still cannot believe you and Beauregard did that,” she said. “Especially without anyone around to supervise.”

“ _Supervise_?” Molly barked out a laugh. “Yasha, what are we,  _teenagers_?”

“No,” she said, and he trailed after her heels, “you are  _stupid_ teenagers. I did not say anything last night, because you were obviously not in your right mind, but you should not have done that.”

“Aw, come on, it was just some fun—”

“You should  _not_ have done that.”

Molly raised his eyebrows. He darted forward, to cut Yasha off.

“Why not?” he demanded, tone much heavier now than before. “I’m an adult, aren’t I? I can make choices for myself, can’t I? I can try new things and do whatever I want and I can deal with the consequences however I like! And there’s nothing at all that can stop me!”

There was a pause.

“Molly?”

“What?”

“I was worried about you.”

He hesitated. But after a moment, he just sighed and shook his head. “You don’t  _have_ to worry about me,” he said. “I’m fine on my own, dear. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

Yasha met his gaze, scarlet in the darkness. Then she reached out, and gently took his hand.

“I want to,” she said softly. “I care about you.”

He opened his mouth to protest again. He twitched his fingers to shake her off, he readied an argument and prepared to fight, all he wanted was to keep yelling, keep  _pushing_ —

He looked into Yasha’s eyes. One lavender, one electric blue, both soft and tinged with…with…

Molly inhaled sharply. His posture crumbled.

“Yasha, did I _hurt_ you?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Not…not really. Like I said, I was mostly worried.”

“But I was fine,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I didn’t get injured, or anything. That, uh, that we know of,” he added sheepishly.

“That is not the part that upset me,” Yasha sighed. “The part that upset me, was that you tried drugs before trying to talk to your friends.”

“Talk to my friends?” Molly frowned. “What…about  _what_?”

“You tried the skein for a reason, did you not? You _also_  were hurt.”

Molly fell silent. He looked down at the floor.

“That’s not so bad,” he said eventually. “I can deal with it.”

Yasha let go of his hand. She gave him a pat on the shoulder, then turned and continued their trek down the hall.

“You should deal with it differently,” she said, without looking over her shoulder. “Otherwise, Molly, you could hurt other people, too.”

Soon, even her footsteps vanished with the shadows.

\--------------------------------------

Fjord and Beau had relocated to the Sieversii College Café, and were now occupying a significant amount of space at one of the longer tables. There were napkins piled up around them like walls, they had stolen all the sugar packets from the counter, and Fjord had bought himself a blueberry muffin.

Beau tapped her chin, then nodded decisively to her co-conspirator. “We should say something like…’okay, everyone, type what you know so we can compare the facts.””

Fjord raised an impressed eyebrow. “That sounds real fancy,” he said. “Do you think this will actually work?”

“Of _course_ it’ll work.” She took a sip of coffee. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from monk boot camp, it’s that information is the most valuable thing to have. Once we actually figure out what the hell’s goin’ on, we can make up a plan to fix it.”

“And we’re adding everyone to the group, right?” Fjord asked. “The whole gang?”

“Except for Molly and Caleb, of course.”

“Right, right.” Then Fjord chuckled, and grinned at Beau. “You know, I feel like Jes should be helping us plan. This sort of thing is right up her alley.”

“We can ask her for input later tonight,” Beau agreed. “We’re all gonna be at movies, yeah? We don’t have to send the texts out now, and I’m sure she’s already got some ideas.”

Fjord took a bite of blueberry muffin. “I’m actually kinda excited to see what we come up with,” he admitted. “I feel like the head of a spy ring, or something, collectin’ information and secrets.”

Beau considered this. She took a thoughtful sip of coffee.

“Nah,” she said eventually. “It’s actually really boring. Mostly you just read books and get punched a lot.”

\--------------------------------------

“You know,” said Molly, as he watched Yasha do a once-over of yet another empty room, “it occurs to me that I’ve been so wrapped up in my _own_ life, that I never did ask you about Beauregard.”

“Beauregard?” Yasha’s tone was suddenly quiet, and controlled. “What? What about her?”

“Just, you know,” Molly shrugged, “how are you two doing? Any fun updates I should know about? Any juicy stories to keep me warm at night?”

“First of all, ew,” Yasha said, rounding the corner. “And secondly, Beau and I are just roommates.”

“Right, right,” Molly nodded, “but what _sort_ of roommates? How’s your _relationship_ , dear?”

Yasha peered into a room, then moved on. “It is fine. We get along well, her bad cooking does not bother me.”

“She tried to _cook_ for you?” Molly’s eyes instantly went wide. “Wait, wait, what _else_ have I missed?”

Yasha considered this for a few minutes.

“We cleaned out weapons together, before the Victory Pit,” she admitted eventually. “We watched the snow fall, once. She wants to get a pet for our home, and I think that could be nice.”

Molly made a noise like a cat with a hairball. Yasha glanced over her shoulder.

“Are you alright? Is it the drugs?”

He coughed into his shoulder a few times and vigorously shook his head. “No, no, no, I’m alright.” He glanced up and raised an eyebrow. “I think the _real_ question is whether or not _you’re_ okay. How are your eyes? How’s your brain?”

Yasha frowned in confusion. “They are…fine? That is an odd question to ask, Molly.”

“Are you kidding, dear? Getting a _pet_? Watching the snow fall? Scratch that, for you two, the _weapons-cleaning_ is what’s really selling it. Yasha, she’s clearly head-over-heels for you!” Molly declared. “And it sounds like you might be reciprocating!”

She shrugged. “We are just getting to know one another. We are building a life together.”

Molly collapsed dramatically against a doorframe. “Building a _life_ together? Check your damn ears too, while you’re at it, do you _hear_ yourself?”

“I do,” Yasha blinked. “I have quite good hearing.”

Molly sighed. He straightened up and brushed his coat off.

“I’ve seen the way you two look at each other,” he said, and waggled one of his fingers around. “It’s _undeniable._ You should chase after her! What’s the worst that can happen, eh? We don’t live forever, and even if your heart…well, even if it just breaks a bit, no big deal, and then you can just move on, right?”

Yasha was silent for a moment. A cold breeze whistled past their ears, then fled further down the hall.

“Is that what you think?” Yasha murmured. “That I should just go for this?”

“Of course,” he shrugged. “Not having…not having love, when you know it’s right there? It’s…it’s…well, it’s like torture.”

“Torture,” Yasha echoed. “You think Beau feels the same?”

He paused. He thought about his next words very carefully.

“You, ah… _well_ …”

“Please, Molly.”

He sighed. “From what I know about her? It’s possible. But at the same time...I think just getting the chance to be near you, to have your attention for even a moment, and to stay by your side, to feel your love and make you smile, well…there was nothing quite like that, either.”

“Was?” Yasha raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘was’?”

Molly, to his credit, barely betrayed a thing. He waved his hand around dismissively. “I’m just saying,” he said hastily. “That’s just what I’m guessing. It might not even be true.”

They walked down the hall for a few more paces, before Molly tried speaking again.

“Yasha?”

“Yes?”

He let out a deep breath. “Really, though, what’s stopping you?” he asked. “Gods know that Beau would say yes, and I’d like to think I know _you_ well enough, to say I think you want this too. What do you have to lose in just _trying_?”

Yasha took a step forward, then paused before of an empty room. This one in particular was much darker than the rest, the absence of its own windows choking the hallway light and casting their faces into a shroud of shadows. Yasha felt briefly along the walls for a switch, then quickly remembered the building still had no power. So instead, she reached out with her other hand, placed a palm to Molly’s wooden plank, and let the soft warm glow of a Light cantrip affix itself to his makeshift weapon.

It shone gently in the darkness around them.

Yasha’s eyes were unreadable in the shadows.

“I am afraid to be with her,” she murmured, “because there are things in my past I cannot let go. I am scared of betraying the person I once loved, and I am scared of losing the people I love today. It is too late to save what I used to have, and it is still too early for me to consider of moving on. And yet, I think she would want me to, and there is a part of me that also wants to, more than anything.”

She pushed on into the room.

“But the other part…the other part…it is still waiting for the past.”

Molly stood there alone in the doorway for a few more moments, illuminated by the light in his hands.

Thinking.

Eventually, he followed her inside.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb sat in the library’s makeshift staff lounge, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee. He had a few more tutoring sessions booked today, and he’d taken to using this room as something of a waiting area. Plus, if he was in the mood to be really honest, he was also mostly in here out of habit. He and Nott had spent quite a few cold winter afternoons tucked away in the warmth of the copy room, and there was still something comforting about the pale-yellow wallpaper, whirring machines, and beaten leather sofa.

Of course, things were different now. More or less. In general.

Caleb stared into the depths of his Styrofoam cup.

“At least you are not at home,” he said, sighing softly to himself. “You made it out of bed, and out of the apartment, all by yourself, without Nott to push you. That is a win, _ja_? That is…yes, that is something you did.”

He swirled the murky drink around, then watched the tiny whirlpool fade.

“But you are not going to the movies tonight,” he groaned. “You cannot do it, can you? You cannot bear the thought of facing him, after everything you have done. After you…after you _used_ him, for your own happiness, and then tossed him aside when he made you upset. You broke his damn _heart_ did you not? And now you are a rat in hiding.”

He roughly shook his head.

“You need to apologize,” he snapped. "You need to tell him you did not mean it. You need to tell him how wrong you were. Only then, you can be good again, _ja_? Only then, you can start to fix the pain you have caused. And then…and then…”

Caleb stared at his own dull reflection. It was tiny, and small, and quivered as his hands shook.

“And then what?” he murmured. “What is it you want? What is it you need? Now that you finally see your reason to be alive, what the _hell_ do you plan on _doing_ about it?”

The coffee did not respond.

Of course, Caleb hadn’t expected it to.

\--------------------------------------

“Nobody is in the Moondrop,” Yasha reported when they returned to the main hall. “We checked all the rooms. Once we thought there were some people, but it was just pigeons looking for a warm place to stay.”

“We told them rent was due in a week,” Molly added cheekily. “With all the craze of construction, I’m sure they’ll clear out soon.”

“Oh, good.” Gustav sighed and leaned back against the bar. “I’m not sure what I’d do about them otherwise.”

“Paint ‘em white and call ‘em doves,” Molly suggested. “Add them to our routine, people love that sort of thing.”

Gustav shook his head, but gave a laugh all the same. “Good idea! Remind me to write that one down. And speaking of…”

He stood up and—amid the sounds of contractors stretching out measuring tape and sizing up their project and taking detailed notes in small pads of paper—led Molly and Yasha over to a small picnic table that had been set up against the least-damaged wall. There were a few plastic folding chairs placed around it, and a laptop was on its surface and a space heater by its side.

“Since you both were kind enough to join me today,” Gustav said, motioning for them to sit, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping out, for the next few weeks? We’ve got a lot to do, and not much manpower available to do it.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

Gustav reached for the mousepad and pulled up a few spreadsheets. “I need a bit of help with budgeting,” he admitted. “And we should probably contact the guests from the 25th Anniversary incident to, you know, apologize, and things. Housekeeping stuff.”

Then he seemed to suddenly come alive, beaming and waving grandly at his screen. “Not to mention, of course, we need to let people know that we’re still alive! We need posters, marketing, promotional emails, pizzazz and excitement, to get the audience back to the Moondrop and waiting with bated breath for our return!” He declared. “We need to make sure the world knows that our bar can’t be stopped, and that the show will go on!”

He glanced up hopefully at his former employees. “Do you think…do you think you both can help?”

Molly and Yasha exchanged brief glances. Then a grin broke across the tiefling’s face. 

“Pizzazz, you say? Excitement, you say?”

He nudged Yasha in the side, and gave them both a big wink.

“Gustav, dear, _now_ you’re speaking our language.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 5:49PM

 **Lavender Thunder:** front door’s unlocked, gang!  
**Lavender Thunder:** everyone still accounted for?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** we’re heading over soon!  
**Drunkmonk:** same here  
**NottSoBrave:** I’m about to leave  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** nottttt youre SUUUURE that caleb can’t come???  
**NottSoBrave:** sorryyyy he says he’s got a lot to do  
**NottSoBrave:** tutoring stuff he’s got to prepare  
**NottSoBrave:** its super duper important  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** weellllllll alriiiiiight  
**Lavender Thunder:** aw, that’s a shame  
**Lavender Thunder:** bring some pizza back for him, eh? 

Caleb shoved his face into his pillow and waved his phone around in the air.

“What does that _mean_?” he moaned, turning to fix one eye on Nott. “What is he trying to _convey_?”

She finished applying the last of her bandages, and sighed. “If you’d _come_ tonight,” she said as pointedly as she could, “then _maybe_ you’d find out.”

He instantly hid his face again. “I cannot,” he mumbled. “I am _certain_ Molly hates me. And I…gods, I cannot bear that, at the moment.”

Nott dug around her heap of blankets for her crossbow. “But what about the others? Don’t you want to see them?”

“I _do,_ ” Caleb groaned, “I very much do. But I just know that if both of us were there, it would just be too awkward to bear. It would ruin the atmosphere for everyone.”

“Won’t it ruin the atmosphere if you aren’t there, though?”

Caleb sighed again, long and mournful. “I just cannot. Truly, I…maybe next time. It is too soon.”

Nott watched him burrow deeper into his bed, then sighed and pulled her jacket on.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Alright. I’ll let them know you said ‘hi.’”

“ _Danke_ ,” he murmured back. “I appreciate that.”

“Is there anything in particular you want me to tell Molly?”

There was a faint snort from the heap that was her best friend. “No, no, there is nothing I _could_ say. I don’t even know what I…truly, there is nothing I _deserve_ to say. But…ah…” He resurfaced again, for just a moment. “Could you let me know, perhaps…perhaps how Molly is getting on? If he seems…upset, or anything like that? Just…just in case.”

Nott nodded, and gave Caleb a cheerful salute. “Count on me! Don’t worry, I won’t let you down.”

\--------------------------------------

When the door clicked shut, Caleb rolled out of bed. He landed on the carpet semi-roughly, and took a few moments to collect his thoughts.

When that proved too difficult, he decided instead to sit up.

He managed this after a few tries.

And in the faint gloom of his bedroom, cast into shadow by the moon through his window, Caleb gave a loud, long, bracing sigh. He shifted his position until he was sitting cross-legged and then, he snapped his fingers.

A ginger tabby cat materialized out of thin air, dropped into Caleb’s lap and immediately started to glare.

Caleb sighed.

“ _Ja_ , _ja,_ okay, let me have it.”

\--------------------------------------

Jester clapped excitedly when Nott slipped through the door, brushing the chill from her body and kicking her shoes into the tray.

“Hey, hey!” she called, waving the little goblin over. “ _There_ you are, what happened?! You’re usually not so late, we got worried!”

“Apparently people’ve been going missing lately,” Fjord added, as she climbed onto the couch and tucked herself in next to Jester. “I was startin’ to wonder.”

Nott grinned, and accepted a slice of pizza from Caduceus. “Aw, you _care_? You all got worried for me?”

Molly emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of drinks. “Of _course_ we did, you little gremlin,” and he set their beverages down onto the table. “But of course, I reassured everyone that you’re much too slippery to be caught.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he grinned back.

“Hey, assholes, let’s get started already!” Beau said, calling everyone’s attention back to the TV. It was still in standby mode, its bright blue screen shedding light all over the darkened living room. “Fjord, don’t you have to head out, soon?” she added.

“I’ve still got an hour,” he shrugged. “No rush.”

“No, there _is_ a rush!” Jester leaned very dramatically towards the stack of DVDs resting on the coffee table. “We have to get in as _much_ movie time as possible—no, Nott, don’t apologize, it’s okay!”

Said goblin lowered her hand as Beau suddenly raised hers. “What are we watching, then?” she asked. “It had better not be another fuckin’ romance movie, because—”

“But _Beau_ , there are _sooo_ many good ones we haven’t seen, yet!”

“Yeah, but it’s _all_ we watch!” she shouted. “And the rest of us don’t even _like_ —”

“Actually, they’re not _that_ bad—”

“I _love_ Jester’s taste, dear—”

“ _I_ think they’re great—”

And as the age-old ritual debate over movies raged on—Beau arguing for something action-packed as Jester asserted romance would unite them all, Molly gleefully egging both sides on while Nott and Fjord occasionally pitched their own ideas to the tune of TV static and the smell of oven-fresh pizza—Yasha slowly turned towards Caduceus.

The lanky firbolg had lifted a slice of mushroom pizza into the air, comically small in his enormous grip. He blinked when he noticed he’d caught Yasha’s attention, and tilted his head as if to invite her to speak.

She sighed. She reached for her own paper plate.

“Is everything…alright at home?” she asked slowly. “You and Molly, are you…getting along?”

Caduceus gave her a careful stare. He seemed to consider this for a moment.

“You’re Molly’s _first_ roommate, right?” he asked eventually. “I think I remember someone telling me that.”

She nodded. “We have known each other since I first came to this country. Molly is…dear to me, and I am worried, when I hear there may be things wrong with him.”

Caduceus snorted. He took another bite of pizza. “Yeah, well, that certainly fits the bill about what’s been going on. Molly and I were great a couple weeks ago, but…lately, ever since the new year, things haven’t been so smooth.”

“I had a feeling,” Yasha said quietly. “Yesterday I found him doing drugs with Beau.”

They both glanced over to the foreground, where Nott had stolen away one of the DVDs and was now riding Jester’s shoulders to prevent Beau or Molly from snatching it back.

“Really?” Caduceus murmured. “Is…is that so?”

“Yes. And I was sort of wondering, what else has Molly been up to, if that is the case?”

“Well,” Caduceus sighed, “Molly _has_ been having a number of…companions over to our apartment, lately. A really big number. And nearly every day. Yesterday morning, one of them took so long in the bathroom, I was almost late for work.”

“Gods.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t great. Though, today was alright,” Caduceus perked up slightly. “Whatever you did to get him out of the house, and this movie night, I think it helped. I must thank you, for that.”

“Don’t thank me,” Yasha chuckled, “thank Jester. She really is the mastermind behind all that. She thinks the best solution is to keep Molly distracted. That is…until we can get him to confront the source of his sadness,” she sighed. “I…I do not know how to make him face it, yet, but I am worried he will implode if he doesn’t.”

“Implode?”

“You know, like…ah…” Yasha waved her hands around vaguely. “Like exploding, but reversed.”

Caduceus was an expert only on certain subjects. He nodded haphazardly.

“Sure,” he agreed. “Implode. Did you try talking to him? You’re his oldest friend, if I’m not mistaken.”

Yasha gave a shrug, and her pizza flopped up and down with her shoulders. “Actually, I did already speak to him today. I think it may have given him some pause, but I am not completely sure if it set in. It may just be that he needs more people to tell him he is doing something wrong.”

Caduceus frowned. “But if he didn’t listen to you, would he listen to anyone else?”

“Maybe not,” Yasha admitted. “But at the same time, I think all we can do is try.”

“Alright, then,” Caduceus nodded. “I suppose in that case..."

He cracked a faint smile.

"It's my turn now, right?"

\--------------------------------------

“You know, you did not have to swear at me,” Caleb said, to his cat, as he sank into the couch cushions and started digging around for the remote. “I know you have hard opinions, but must they be… _so_ hard?”

Frumpkin meowed, and let just the tips of his claws graze Caleb’s leg. It was like a warning shot, given feline form.

Caleb rolled his eyes. He flipped to the news and considered his familiar.

“I do not know how to _fix_ this, though,” he murmured. “And I do not think Molly even would want to see me if I tried. I hurt him very badly, after all. He would not even give me the time of day, and I certainly would not deserve it.”

There was a beat of silence, then Caleb shook his head.

“Yes, he _does_ , but what if seeing me only makes him feel worse? What if…what if—”

He was cut off by a pointed yowl. He waited for his cat to finish chiding him, and sighed.

“I don’t even know what I want,” he admitted. “What _is_ there to want, what’s left I can even have?”

Another pause.

“Well, of course—”

Another break.

“Yes, I do—”

A final beat of silence, then:

“It was…nice,” Caleb murmured, after a while. “It was warm, and…and soft, and it…I felt alive, when we were together. I…I had something to strive for, and someone to treasure, and a kind of happiness I had never found with anyone else. And…when I realized what it had been, and I saw that it was gone, I…I just felt empty. And…alone. Even though now I know, in a way, I am not.”

He took a slow, shaky breath, and rubbed a circle around Frumpkin’s ears. “After all, I have you, do I not? And I have Nott, and the rest of them, of course, the rest of my…of my…”

He stopped. His fingers fell back into his lap, then his hand shot up and he hit himself in the forehead.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, to an audience of one. “Of-of course! I will do what I did last time! I will ask them, again!”

Frumpkin cocked his head. He meowed, and Caleb grinned.

“Why not?” he said. There was a spark in his voice now, a tiny ember burning among the ashes of before. “Why not?! It worked last time, _ja_? Maybe there is a chance that it will work again! And then…and then…”

He lifted his cat into the air, and gave a high, hopeful laugh.

“And then, Frumpkin, maybe, just maybe, I can figure out what to do!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thaaannnkks so much for reading!!! Sorry this chapter's comin' out so late at night and sorry I haven't responded to ch. 30's comments yet! I've just gotten back and I'm doing ,, a LOT of reevaluating thanks to episode 49 and all that jazz.
> 
> As always, please consider leaving comments/kudos! I love reading everything y'all have to say, and it means the world to mean to know how you feel about this lil fic, and especially when y'all reccomend this story to your friends. I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com), and all my drabbles and such are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!


	32. Hearts but a Breath Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy early update, gang! I figured since today was the 50th episode of season 2, I might help celebrate and drop this chapter early!! Not only that, but this is highkey one of my favorite segments I've ever written, sooooo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I hope you enjoy <3

Today | 11:09AM

 **Caleb Widogast:** hallo, there  
**Caleb Widogast:** er  
**Caleb Widogast:** Jester, are you around?  
**Caleb Widogast:** I am kind of in needing some help  
**Caleb Widogast:** and I was hoping you could lend me a hand

Today | 11:21AM

 **Jester:** CALEB?????????  
**Jester:** CCAAAALLLEBB?????!!?!!!!!  
**Jester:** CCCCCAAAALLLLLEEEBBBB????????????!!!!!!!!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
**Jester:** WHAT??!!!!!  
**Jester:** IS THIS REAL??!!!!!!!!!!  
**Caleb Widogast:** yes?  
**Caleb Widogast:** is now a bad time?  
**Jester:** CAYLEB!!!!!!!!!!!!???????????????  
**Caleb Widogast:** should I call you back  
**Caleb Widogast:** or text you back, actually  
**Jester:** holy SHIT, no no!!!  
**Jester:** now is totally fine!!!!  
**Jester:** im just  
**Jester:** reallllllyyyyy surprised!!!  
**Jester:** annnnnd a little confused  
**Jester:** is everything alright with you?  
**Caleb Widogast:** ahhh, actually, no  
**Caleb Widogast:** which was why I was hoping we could speak  
**Caleb Widogast:** Is there somewhere we are able to meet? This is a little bit important and would work better in person  
**Caleb Widogast:** I am not the best at typing, yet  
**Jester:** HA! you need more practice!!!  
**Jester:** and of course of course!! you can come over right now, fjord just left for class and we’ll have plentyyyy of privacy!!  
**Jester:** oh, but don’t wear any pants that you like  
**Caleb Widogast:** …  
**Caleb Widogast:** what  
**Jester:** no good pants!!  
**Jester:** see you soon!!!  
**Caleb Widogast:** well, hang on, jester, maybe some explaining, please?  
**Jester:** seeee youuuuu sooooon!!! You’ll find out when you get here!!!  
**Caleb Widogast:** jester, that is infinitely concerning  
**Caleb Widogast:** jester?  
**Caleb Widogast:** jester, are you still there?  
**Caleb Widogast:** …  
**Caleb Widogast:** schmid  
**Caleb Widogast:** *scheisse

\--------------------------------------

“Oh, _götterverdammt_ , is _that_ the reason?”

“Hurry up and close the door, silly! I can’t hold him down for much longer!”

Caleb Widogast pulled the handle shut behind him as he carefully stepped into Jester’s apartment. Ever since his revelation last night, he’d spent hours awake picturing what he would say in this moment, grand announcements of truth and long explanations of his problems, but not in a single one of his many scenarios did he ever factor in the presence of a twelve-pound puppy slathering drool across the floor, its tail wagging manically and its tongue flapping around like a particularly wet and excited fruit roll-up. This dog must also have been rather strong for its size, because despite Jester’s best efforts, it was still managing to drag her in circles around the living room, forging an eager path as she clung onto its collar from behind.

Caleb briefly wondered if he should get in there and try to help. It took him about six seconds to decide not to.

“Is this, ah…is this the Nugget I have heard so much about?” he asked instead, hanging his scarf up on the rack and then taking a step back. “The dog that you and Fjord so unwisely decided to adopt?”

“Yep!” Jester beamed. Then she dove down to scoop Nugget into her arms. “Isn’t he cute? Isn’t he _so_ adorable? Oh, yes you are, yes you _are_ —”

Caleb watched the dog stick his tongue into Jester’s ear. This must have been extremely unpleasant, though she didn’t seem to mind.

“What… _is_ that?” He managed, after staring at this in horror for a while. “Is he some sort of…shepherd, or something?”

“I have no idea!” Jester laughed. “The shelter thinks he’s a mutt, or something. No one’s really sure.”

“Is that so?” Caleb took another step back, to avoid the drool. “I cannot help but feel he is familiar, somehow.”

“Well, I bet he’s got some Zemnian in him,” Jester grinned, and swiveled her armful of fur closer to Caleb. “Are you Zemnian?” she asked the dog happily. “Are you wanting to make friends with him? Are you feeling a bond? I bet _he_ wants to be friends, too, isn’t that right? Isn’t he so excited, too?”

“He is not,” Caleb said quickly. “He is moving away now and avoiding all interaction.”

Nugget tried desperately to wiggle out of Jester’s grasp. She managed to keep a hold on her dog just long enough to pour him behind a tall gate blocking off the kitchen, then tossed a few toys over and wiped off her chest.

“That wasn’t very nice,” she teased Caleb. “Nuggy’s just a lovable little puppy! You should at least let him smell you.”

Caleb raised his eyebrows. “I am certain he could have smelled me from the hallway. Dogs have very powerful noses. That I will stay far away from.”

Nugget barked at this, though it likely was less in agreement and more in the general spirit of being noisy. Jester bent over, and rubbed behind his ears.

“Well, alright, if you insist,” she giggled. “But just know that both of us are disappointed!”

Nugget drooled on her fingers. Caleb rolled his eyes.

“Noted,” he said. “My deepest apologies. Will that gate hold?”

To his instant sorrow, Jester shrugged her shoulders. “It’s actually weird of you to ask that,” she said. “Fjord put him back here this morning, just so he could vacuum the house, and we looked away for only a second and Nugget was running to our bedroom! You’re like a little escape artist, aren’t you?” she added, addressing the puppy in a sing-song tone, “ _aren’t_ you—”

“Jester, that is _extremely_ worrisome,” Caleb interrupted. “Do you need something stronger? I…I suppose I can make Frumpkin watch him, if neces—”

“Oooh, yes!” Jester clapped her hands together. “Oh, Caleb, that’s a great idea! Maybe they can be friends! I bet Nugget would _love_ to meet another pet, wouldn’t he? Oh, yes he would, yes he would!”

Caleb did not deign to comment on this. Instead, he just sighed, and snapped his fingers, and Frumpkin instantly materialized atop the fridge. The cat took one look at the puppy now skittering over towards him, and hissed.

“Aw, they’re getting along so well!” Jester laughed. “This is like a little play-date!”

“Yes, yes,” Caleb nodded. “Just like that. What fun, we are having.”

Jester grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders. “I’m glad you can agree!” she giggled. “Now, now, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about? You said it was important?”

Caleb—who hadn’t exactly been relaxed during the entire encounter—suddenly stiffened up in a new way. He gave a careful glance back at his cat, and then sighed and nodded to the tiefling beside him.

“ _Ja_ ,” he said softly. “ _Ja_ , there is something I’d like your help with.”

“Got you,” she smiled cheerfully. “Here, let me make us some tea!”

\--------------------------------------

Molly walked into the kitchen that morning with a yawn in his lungs and sleep-crusted eyes. His robe lung limp around his shoulders, and the silk tie flapped out behind him almost like a second tail. For decency’s sake, he also had a pair of shorts on, but in some circles this could have been seen as more provocative than anything.

Or it would have, if Molly wasn’t too tired to be sexy. Between his hours yesterday at the Moondrop, then his hours with his friends, now he was feeling absolutely exhausted.

Still, he couldn’t wait to do both again.

Caduceus was seated at the counter as he entered, scanning lazily through the morning paper. There was a bowl of cereal set out before him, and a plastic spoon hung limp from his hands.

He glanced up when Molly grabbed a bowl of his own and plopped down across from him at the table.

“Mornin’ there, dear,” he said, tone chipper. “What’s your plan for today?”

Caduceus gave Molly a faint smile. “Nothing too exciting,” he said, setting the newspaper down. “I’ve got an afternoon shift at the Feather, but first I might stop by to have lunch with a friend.”

“Oh, _really_?” Molly poured a generous heap of Fruity Bits from the box. “Now is this a friend, or is this a _friend_?”

“Just a friend,” Caduceus chuckled. “For now, anyways.”

“For now, eh? Is this that wizard you mentioned to me once?”

When Caduceus didn’t answer right away, Molly just grinned and nodded. “Say no more, my dear! I understand you _completely_.”

They sat there in amiable silence for a little while, framed by the sound of chewing and clinking of silverware. Molly was lost deep in his plans for the Moondrop’s new advertisements—bright flashing colors, glitter galore, giant cursive words spelling out their triumphant return—when Caduceus suddenly broke the peace.

“Excuse me, ah…Molly?” he asked.

The tiefling snapped back to reality.

“Yes, dear?” He lowered his spoon. “What’s up?”

Caduceus seemed to wrestle internally with something. Seeing the struggle written out on his long, furry face, truly was a sight to behold.

And eventually, he reached a conclusion, and spoke:

“Are you, ah…are you planning on bringing anyone back to the apartment, this week?”

Molly went still. He gave a slight frown. “I, ah…well, I suppose that’s a good question,” he said carefully. “I don’t have any plans as of yet, but…I suppose that’s always an option. Why, dear?” His lips quirked upwards. “Are you planning on joining us?”

The teasing suggestion was completely lost on Caduceus. “No, no,” he said easily, “no, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I just…well, I was sort of wondering if you could maybe…ease up on the guests? Or…at least let me know in advance?” He gave Molly a weak smile. “I know that this was _your_ home first, and I’ll always be grateful to you for opening it up to me, but…if I’m bein’ honest, Molly…I don’t think I can go on much longer if your visitors are gonna be this frequent.”

Molly took a moment to process this. Ever-so-slowly, his eyebrows crept up.

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m being immoral, or something?”

Caduceus blinked. He dropped his spoon, and frowned.

“What?”

Molly paused. “What?”

“Wait, what?” Caduceus shook his head. “I think I’m confused, now. What’s immoral?”

“Wait, _what_?” Molly leaned forward in his chair. “I thought—isn’t it me? Or…wait, no, it’s _not_ me, because I’m not doing anything wrong! Ah, I see what you’re doing, dear, and it certainly isn’t going to work.”

Now Caduceus’s expression had morphed into utter bewilderment. The tall firbolg raised a finger.

“I have… _no_ idea what’s going on,” he said slowly. “Are…are _you_ saying there’s something wrong with sleeping with people? Because that’s kind of weird, for you to say that, if you’re the one doing it.”

Molly opened his mouth. He closed it again. He thought about this for a few seconds.

“I think, perhaps, we might’ve gotten off-track.”

Caduceus nodded his agreement. “I think that might be the case.”

A faint smile, exasperated but amused nonetheless, crawled its way across Molly’s face.

“Start from the beginning,” he said. “What _exactly_ is your problem, with me?”

Caduceus quickly shook his head. “That phrasing is a little aggressive,” he said. “It isn’t really a problem, just a…a request. And then a question.”

Molly shrugged. “Sure, dear. Request away.”

“Could you, er, perhaps cut down on the guests?” Caduceus rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not actually objecting to what you’re doing, not at all, no worries there, it’s just the…the frequency, and the, ah…the volume. And timing.”

Once Molly finished deciphering this, and the realization came through, he immediately burst into laughter. “Oh, jeez,” he said, smacking himself in the forehead. “Is that—oh, is that all? Gods, I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t realize that was bothering you so much!” He gave Caduceus a cheerful smile. “I guess I figured, well, you’d speak up, but…actually, I suppose you just did, didn’t you?”

Caduceus nodded, relief heavy in his tone. “I’m so glad you understand,” he chuckled. “I was really worried you wouldn’t take kindly to my saying this.”

“Nonsense, nonsense,” Molly grinned. “It’s my own fault for not realizing, eh? And it’s not like I can’t go to my dates’ homes, right?”

“Right,” Caduceus agreed. “That would also make my life a bit more…pleasant.”

“Well, well, say no more!” Molly generously waved his hands. “From now on, dear, I promise to be a better roommate. I solemnly swear this. How’s that for you, eh?”

Caduceus beamed. “It couldn’t be better,” he smiled. “Though, ah…there was one other thing.”

“Right, right!” Molly bowed his head. “A question, yes? What’s up?”

Caduceus met his gaze. He raised his spoon.

“Are you sad?”

\--------------------------------------

Behind them, in the kitchen, Nugget had taken to doing his best to eviscerate a small chew toy shaped like a bone. This was hindered greatly by the fact that the toy was made of rubber, and that Nugget still didn’t have full control over his teeth yet. Frumpkin, still up on the fridge, watched over these efforts with a wary eye.

“You don’t have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Jester said, as she poured Caleb another glass of tea. “I can tell by your weird faces that this is going to be a big one.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he accepted the cup. “I am glad you are bracing yourself then,” he sighed. “Although I should ask if you can use that intuition once more, because I truly am uncertain as to how to start this.”

Jester snatched a biscuit up from the tray and considered this. “Do you want me to try and help?” she suggested. “I can ask you questions, and you can just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ if I’m right.”

“Sure,” Caleb nodded, and took a small sip. “Why not?”

“Alrighty then!” Jester grinned. “Question one! Is this about Molly?”

\--------------------------------------

“You know, dear, you’re the second person to ask me that this week,” he said lightly. “Is it something on my face? Is it something that I’ve said?”

“It’s actually the things you aren’t saying,” Caduceus shrugged. “You haven’t really spoken to any of us since the new year, and though there’s nothing wrong with, ah…” he faltered only slightly, “night-time friends, having so many at once is a little worrying. I had to wonder if you were alright.”

“Well, don’t bother,” Molly said dismissively. “Just ask Yasha or Fjord, they’ll tell you that I used to do this sort of thing all the time. It’s all in fun, you know?” he smiled. “I like meeting new people. Getting to know them. Know, among other things.”

Caduceus took a thoughtful bite of cereal. “I suppose that does make sense,” he said eventually. “Though now I’m even a bit more puzzled. Why didn’t you entertain guests these last few weeks? Did something happen to make you stop? Did some- _one_ do something that made you want to take a break?”

The steadiness of Caduceus’s gaze was too pointed to be a coincidence. Despite a part of him not wanting to fight, Molly’s hackles began to rise.

“That isn’t really any of your business,” he replied coolly. “I care about you, Cad, really I do, but I’d appreciate it if you kept your nose out of my personal life.”

Caduceus quickly held up his hands. “Alright,” he said calmly, “alright. I was just curious, is all, just curious if this had anything to do with the balcony.”

\--------------------------------------

“Question two! Did something bad happen between you two?”

\--------------------------------------

Molly’s eyes narrowed further. He put his spoon down, and leaned forwards.

“Has anyone ever told you, dear, that you’re too sharp for your own good?”

Caduceus didn’t respond at first. For a few seconds they just stared at one another, gazes locked, the silence in the apartment pounding heavy against their ears.

Then Caduceus just sighed, and let out a small breath.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he nodded. “I won’t bring it up again.”

This was enough to quell the boiling in Molly’s blood. He leaned back into his chair, and shrugged.

“It’s alright,” he muttered. “And I really _am_ sorry for not noticing how my partners were affecting you, before.”

“No worries. I’m glad you at least heard me out, today.”

Molly managed to find a soft, rumpled smile. He put it on and gave Caduceus a sly look. “Hang on, though, _what_ did you refer to my partners as, before? Night-time friends, or something?”

Caduceus’s face colored slightly at that. “I, well, I didn’t know how else to put it tactfully.”

“No, no, don’t worry, dear!” Molly laughed. “If anything, I think it’s delightful. I might use that, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Caduceus chuckled. “Happy to help. And, ah…Molly?”

His roommate gave a faint sigh. “Yes, dear? What now?”

Caduceus’s expression was nothing but warm.

“Not much,” he said. “It’s just nice to hear that you care about me. I hope you know that I care about you, too.”

\--------------------------------------

“Question three!” Jester declared. “Are you still in love with him?”

Caleb’s head snapped upwards.

“Why would you ask that?” he asked immediately. “I-I never said that I was.”

Jester took a wry bite of biscuit. “You never _had_ to say it, silly, it was written all across your face! Seriously, every time all of us hung out together, it was as obvious as anything. And I still haven’t forgotten that other conversation, you know,” she selected another cookie and examined it, “that time we all went to the market to see that movie, and you pulled me aside to ask about love. I knew right away who you were talking about.” She offered up a cheeky grin. “Even _Fjord_ could have guessed.”

“Is, ah…is that so?” Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. Half-parts embarrassed at being so easily red, half-parts flustered at the memories of that day. “I feel rather silly in retrospect, then, trying so hard to hide it.”

“You don’t have to,” Jester reassured him. “I understand why you did. _I’m_ just glad you came to me to ask! And I’m glad you’re here, now. We’ve all been super worried, you know, the whole Nein.”

Caleb groaned. “Gods, are you _all_ in on this?”

Jester raised her eyebrow. She handed him a biscuit, which he took.

“We all, together, watched you and Molly shout at each other on the balcony at New Dawn,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s hard _not_ to be invested, after that. You two really need to get better at paying attention. I guess you only had eyes for each other, _hmm_?” She said this with a broad smile, turned her head to give a big wink.

Caleb sighed. “ _Had_ eyes,” he answered glumly. “That is the operative word. Now, I think, the situation is different.”

“And why’s that?” Jester munched on another cookie. “What’s changed?”

Caleb gave another sigh. “Everything,” he murmured. “Ev… _everything_. I…gods, I…Molly confessed to me, that night.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, then the sound of intense coughing as Jester tried to dislodge shortbread crumbs from her throat. A few hearty, panicked _thwacks_ from Caleb and a long drink of tea later, she put her cup down slowly and remembered again what it was like to breathe.

“Are you alright?” Caleb fretted. “Do you…do you need a doctor, or something?”

“ _I’m_ a doctor,” Jester managed, then cleared her throat one last time. “And I think I’m okay, you just… _wow_. Molly _confessed_ to you?”

“He did,” Caleb nodded. “He…he told me that he loved me—please do not choke—”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Jester waved her hands around, “I won’t this time, keep telling the story!”

“Well, that is the most important part, I think,” Caleb shrugged. “He told me his true feelings. And I did not believe him, so…I laughed.”

Jester’s eyes went wide. “Wait a minute, you _what_?” she demanded. “You…you did _not_ , Caleb!”

“I did,” he said miserably. “I did.”

“And what did _he_ do?”

“He told me I was being ridiculous,” Caleb muttered. “He told me that I was insisting too hard and falling into my own sadness, which, well, I see now that he had a point. But…we ended up having a fight. I was not acknowledging his feelings, and I was mad because he refused to acknowledge mine.”

“And then what happened?” Jester whispered. “How did it end?”

“I told him, ah…certain things,” Caleb murmured. “Certain parts of my past, that I had wanted to keep buried. Just to see his reaction.”

“Which was?”

“He dismissed them. He told me I was clinging too hard to things that had already happened. And still I could not force him to understand me, so I…left.” Caleb scratched dejectedly at his wrist. “I stormed out of there and did not look back.”

Jester was silent for a little while. Behind them, in the kitchen-pen, Nugget was running circles, his paws scrabbling excitedly against tile as he wrestled with various toys. Frumpkin observed this suspiciously.

Then Jester reached for another cookie. She gave Caleb a rather complicated look.

“This is just like one of my movies,” she informed him. “This is just like the plot of the _Watch-Captain’s Secret._ ”

Someone else might have sighed, or rolled their eyes, or gotten angry. Caleb just nodded along; this was not a surprising revelation.

“What happens in that movie?” he asked. “Does it have a good ending?”

She looked him straight in the eye. She munched loudly.

“Do you want the truth?”

“ _Ja, bitte_.”

Jester shrugged. She lifted her teacup. “I actually have no idea. I got distracted while I was watching it, and I never finished. It wasn’t really that good, anyways.”

This time, Caleb did groan. His shoulders sank.

“Jester,” he said, “ _Jester_ , I thought this was going to lead somewhere helpful.”

She shrugged again. “Sorry, Caleb. It _really_ wasn’t great.”

“And why is that?” he muttered, before taking a sip of his own tea. “Were the leads not attractive enough?”

“No, no, silly!” she laughed. “No, the writing was super-bad. They kept using bad coincidences and not enough communication to build suspense.” She paused, and gave him a meaningful look. “I mean really. They _really_ milked that _lack of communication_ for all it was worth.”

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes.

“This is the part where you get what I’m saying,” Jester added as, right before her eyes, her friend had a mild breakdown. “This is the part where you say, ‘but Jester, how am I supposed to communicate with him?’”

Caleb sighed. He nodded slowly. “But Jester,” he began, “how am I supposed to— _was zum Teufel?! What do you mean, ‘telepor—'_ ”

A small cloud of smoke materialized above Caleb’s lap. This strange, sudden occurrence was also accompanied by the rather peculiar sight of a grown man shrieking and leaping off the sofa, scrambling around the coffee table with alarming speed as a twelve-pound puppy dropped out of thin air and landed with a small _thump_ on the couch where he’d been.

Everybody in the apartment went still. Except Nugget, who instantly dove for the biscuits.

“Grab him!” Jester screamed, jolting them both out of their daze, “Quick, quick, he probably can’t eat shortbread!”

A few panicked minutes passed, consisting of Caleb desperately trying to help Jester wrestle her dog off the coffee table. They finally managed to pull him loose, Jester gripping him tightly in her arms, and then took a moment to ensure he hadn’t eaten anything unhealthy.

His mouth was clean. As clean as it got, anyways.

“What the _heck_ was that?” Jester demanded, staring at Caleb with a bewildered face. “Where did…what was…” Her gaze fell back to her dog. “Was that _you,_ Nuggy?”

The puppy barked. As if this were a solemn answer.

“Your dog…” Caleb panted, “your…he…your dog just _teleported!_ ”

Jester lifted said canine into the air. She looked into his eyes, and then was distracted when he licked her nose.

“Aw, gosh, Nuggy, stop that,” she laughed, and stretched her arms out. This put Nugget closer to Caleb, which was delightful for one of them and decidedly not for the other.

“Can dogs _do that?”_ Jester asked, as Caleb ducked below a drooling tongue. “Have you ever…have you ever _heard_ of that, before?”

Caleb shook his head adamantly. “Absolutely not,” he said. “No, they are not supposed to…to…”

He trailed off. He gave this a bit of thought.

“Actually,” he said slowly, “actually…I think there _are_ dogs who posses this ability. Not…obviously, not normal dogs, but…a certain type of creature. Fey in nature, I think, and, well… _ja_ , not exactly a creature of our world.”

Jester brought Nugget back into her lap. She tilted her head at him.

“Are you a fairie?” she asked. “Are you secretly an itty-bitty pixie?”

Nugget blinked at her a few times. And then he tried to eat her necklace.

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Nugget?” he called softly. “ _Nugget? Could you just sit still, for a minute_?”

To both their amazement, Nugget instantly stopped. His head swiveled around to face Caleb and though he didn’t look like he was going to comply, he definitely seemed curious, and even a little surprised.

He barked at Caleb. This went mostly undeciphered, but Caleb chalked it up as a win.

“Wow,” Jester said, looking down at her now slightly-more-docile dog. “Caleb, what did you _say_ to him?”

“I, ah, well, all this talk of fairies gave me an idea,” he said, still waiting for his own shock to fade. “I asked him to give us a moment, in Sylvan. And…I think it worked? _Nugget?_ ” He tried again. “ _Could you bark twice if you understand me_?”

Nugget did, tail wagging. Jester looked amazed.

“Did _you_ ask him to do that?”

“ _Ja_ , I did.”

“Oh my gosh, really?! Oh my _gosh_!” Now there were stars in her eyes. “ _Caleb,_ you’re like a dog-whisperer!”

“More like a magic-dog whisperer,” he corrected weakly. “Though I do not think I can _make_ him listen, just…I know he understands, and we just have to hope he will follow, and…ah, you are not paying attention, anymore.”

“Who’s a smart boy?!” Jester was laughing, and scratching Nugget’s tummy. “Who’s a talented little puppy who speaks all the languages? You are, yes, you are, yes, you are!”

“Jester,” Caleb called, “ _ach,_ Jester, do you mind if we re-focus?” he asked. “I am still…well, I am still undergoing a small crisis of love, at the moment.”

Her eyes were instantly back on him, though her fingers remained deep in Nugget’s fur.

“Is that what it is, then?” she asked plainly. “Is it love, still? Is that still how you feel?”

Caleb twisted at the frayed edges of his sleeves. “Well…” he said slowly, “ _well_ …”

“Ye- _es_?”

He sighed again. “Yes,” he admitted softly. “I think…after everything, and all that has happened…yes. Of course. How could I…gods, how could I not be? How could _anyone_ not fall in love with him?”

An enormous smile broke across Jester’s face. Her eyes shone in the light of her joy.

“Oh, Caleb,” she said softly. “Oh, _Caleb_. I’m so happy for you.”

He snorted. “ _Ja_ , well, unfortunately, I think that happiness might be misplaced. After all, there is…there are problems, now, _ja_? I…gods, I broke his damn heart, for starting. Not to mention…not to mention how poorly our whole conversation went. And I _still_ could not get him to listen to me, even then! Not properly. Not even though he was…smitten, with me, at the time. What is to say he will even give me a _chance_ to speak now, after all that?”

Jester nodded slowly along. She put her dog down and reached over, took Caleb’s hands.

“You say you just want to talk to him?” she asked. “All you want is clear the air?”

“That is it,” he agreed. “If I can just…apologize, and explain myself. That would be…that would be all I need, I think, to move on. To…whatever comes next.”

Jester nodded again. “Well, in that case, don’t worry,” she said firmly. “If that’s all you need, then you can leave it to me!”

\--------------------------------------

Jester created a new group chat  
_7 Members: Beauregard, Caduceus, Caleb, Fjord, Jester, Nott, and Yasha_

Today | 3:31PM

Jester renamed the group chat to: **The Get Caleb and Molly to Stop Being Idiots Super Fun Adventure Squad**

Jester changed her nickname to “(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*”  
Jester changed Beau’s nickname to “Drunkmonk”  
Jester changed Yasha’s nickname to “Babebarian”  
Jester changed Caleb’s nickname to “Gayleb”  
Jester changed Nott’s nickname to “NottSoBrave”  
Jester changed Fjord’s nickname to “Seaman”  
Jester changed Caduceus’s nickname to “(✿´ ω｀)”

 **Drunkmonk:** oh gods not another one  
**Drunkmonk:** though I guess we cant complain right @fjord  
**Drunkmonk:** since we were planning on doing this too  
**Seaman:** Jester just beat us to it, haha  
**Seaman:** though I wasn’t plannin’ on adding Caleb, I mean  
**Seaman:** its not as if he’d be present anyways, but colludin’ behind his back WITH him in the chat just seems against the principle of the thing  
**Gayleb:** ah actually hallo yes  
**Gayleb:** jester is making this thread to help me  
**Gayleb:** and to also solicit all of you for some assistance

There was a pause. Caleb glanced up and gave his friend a worried look.

“Just wait for it,” Jester said. “It took me a few seconds, too.”

And then, as one, their cell phones exploded.

 **Drunkmonk:** CALEB????????  
**Drunkmonk:** CAALLLEBBB??!?!!!!  
**Seaman:** WHOA WHAT THE FUCK  
**Seaman:** CALEB???  
**NottSoBrave:** heyyyy caleb!!!!! nice to see you!!!!  
**Babebarian:** oh this is supriising  
**Babebarian:** hello  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀):** hey there, how are you doing?  
**Drunkmonk:** WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT  
**Drunkmonk:** WHAT THE ABSOLUTE SHIT WAIT WHAT  
**Drunkmonk:** CCALLLLLEBBBB????!?!!!!????!?!!!!!!!  
**Gayleb:** yes that is me  
**Gayleb:** hello everybody you all have such fun nicknames wow  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** im the mastermind behind that one heehee  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** and yesss yes!! welcome everybody!!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** I now call this meeting to order!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** becauuuuuuse  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** I think we all know that there’s something going on between caleb and molly!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** and we all know that it’s pretty bad!!  
**Gayleb:** well  
**Drunkmonk:** no shut up let her finish  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** thank you beau!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** as I was saying  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** now that I finally know whats going on, guys!!! I know what we need to do  
**Seaman:** well, then, don’t keep us waitin  
**Seaman:** this has gone on for long enough!  
**Babebarian:** I am covered in ears

This was followed by a very long pause. Then:

 **NottSoBrave:** you’re…what?  
**Drunkmonk:** what  
**Seaman:** yasha, I think you might mean that you’re ALL ears?  
**Babebarian:** oh  
**Babebarian:** oh, yes, that is the one  
**Seaman:** gods have mercy  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** aaaannnnyyyywayyyyyyssss  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** guys!!!! I have a plan!! we need to get caleb and molly together and we need to get them to TALK about their feelings  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** caleb and I have come up with an idea to do this, but we need to get molly in a place where we can do this!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** and I have a feeling, based on what yasha and cad have told me, that it isn’t going to be easy  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀):** absolutely not  
**Babebarian:** he is  
**Babebarian:** difficult, at the moment  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** right!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** which is why, we all need to pay close attention  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** here’s a what we’re going to do

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Today | 4:03PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** gueeeeessss whaaaaat!!!!  
**Drunkmonk:**???????  
**Babebarian:** what?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** iiiiittttt’s movie time!!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** come on, come on, what do you guys say??!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** I know we just had one yesterday but I’m bored and I have pizza coupons and also you guys all have to meet nugget!! he’s super duper cute and also teleports

\--------------------------------------

 **The Get Caleb and Molly to Stop Being Idiots Super Fun Adventure Squad**  
Today | 4:05PM

 **Seaman:** I’m sorry, WHAT?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** shut up fjord, im busy

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**  
Today | 4:06PM

 **Lavender Thunder:** oh my oh my  
**Lavender Thunder:** that sounds absolutely fascinating  
**Lavender Thunder:** I was going to meet some people tonight, but truth be told if there’s a portin dog and pizza at your place, I think I might rather go there!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** awesome!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** that’s super great too, especially since Caleb missed yesterday!!!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** Nott, can you both make it today?  
**NottSoBrave:** yes!!  
**NottSoBrave:** Caleb says he’s free real soon!  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** heck yeah!!!!  
**Lavender Thunder:** oh, shoot  
**Lavender Thunder:** I absolutely forgot!!  
**Lavender Thunder:** I promised gustav I’d meet up with him today  
**Lavender Thunder:** to go over finances and prepare for next week  
**Lavender Thunder:** repairs are much more complicated than you’d think!!  
**Lavender Thunder:** you lot may have to go on without me

\--------------------------------------

“Of course,” Caleb sighed, groaning into Frumpkin’s fur. “Of _course_ he would say that.”

“Not to worry!” Jester waved her phone around. “I’ve got a backup for that!”

\--------------------------------------

 **The Get Caleb and Molly to Stop Being Idiots Super Fun Adventure Squad**  
Today | 4:12PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** ready, fjord and beau?  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** sayyyyy around 5:30pm  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** this one’s on you!!

\--------------------------------------

Mollymauk Tealeaf was stretched across his sofa, enjoying a glass of wine and drowning out the television, when the front door burst open and two figures marched in.

His sudden panic only lasted a couple seconds, however, because he realized rather quickly that these intruders were none other than Fjord and Beauregard. They were wrapped head-to-toe in cold weather gear, though rapidly shedding their outer layers as they stormed over.

This was an odd development, to be sure.

Molly sat up and draped himself over the couch-back. “Is there, ah, anything I can help you with?” he asked. “Of course, you both are always welcome faces, but I thought at least you’d do me the honor of knocking.”

Their approach did not slow down in the least. Molly started to get a bit nervous.

“Dears? What are you doing in my house?”

“I think the _real_ question, Molly, is what _aren’t_ you doing in _Jester’s_ house?” Beau came to a stop just inches from his face. “What happened to you helping Gustav, tonight? Or was that a clever lie, to avoid the rest of us?”

“Now, now,” Fjord interjected calmly, “let’s not get too…riled up, there. Molly, what’s going on? Didn’t you say you were busy, tonight?”

Mollymauk, caught between a rock and a loud place, opened his mouth. He closed it again. He raised a finger.

“I think we’ll all share a hearty laugh when I explain the situation to you,” he managed.

Fjord and Beau exchanged glances. They did not appear to be amused, as of yet.

“Go on, then,” Fjord nodded. “Explain away.”

Molly gave them both a weak smile. “Can I offer you up a drink, first?” he asked. “There’s still some wine, or soda in the fridge—"

“Shut up,” Beau said. “ _Explain_.”

Molly scowled at her. “How am I supposed to be quiet _and_ tell you what’s—”

“ _Molly_ ,” Fjord groaned, “come on, can you imagine how hard it is to be the good cop, right now? Just give the excuse so we can drag you off, we know you’re dying to join us.”

“Well, dears,” Molly said softly, “actually, the problem is that I _don’t_ want to come tonight. I’d rather spend the evening by myself, in fact, if it’s all the same to you—”

“It’s not,” Beau interrupted. “At all. Come on, get your butt moving so we can go.”

Molly’s eyes went narrow. For the second time today, a slow rage started to bubble.

“ _No,_ ” he hissed, “I don’t _want_ to. Aren’t you listening? I just want to stay _here_. And I’d like it also if you both would leave me alone too, thank you very much. I no longer want to deal with either of you, and it wasn’t exactly that fucking polite of you to just _break in_ , in the first—”

“Technically we didn’t break in,” Fjord offered up, “Caduceus left us your house keys at the front des—”

“Whatever!” Molly snapped. “Whatever, I don’t care! Just go away, _please_.”

“We won’t,” Beau shot back. “We can’t. We need to make sure you’re there tonight, so all of us can hang out together like the big fuckin’ happy family we are—”

“Oh, that’s _cute_ ,” Molly rolled his eyes. “Happy _family_ , eh? How sweet.”

He shook his head, and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Look,” he said, “ _look_. I get that you’re trying to do something nice for Caleb. I know you all feel _bad_ he missed yesterday. And sure, whatever, that’s adorable, good on you! _I_ just don’t see why _I_ have to—”

“Gods above, we aren’t doin’ this for _him_!” Beau shouted. “This is for you _too,_ you _stupid_ idiot!”

Molly froze. There was a beat of silence. And then slowly, very slowly, one of his eyebrows went up.

“Ex- _cuse_ me?” he asked.

“I think what she’s trying to say,” Fjord said, stepping in with a disarming smile, “is that we just want you to—”

“No, no!” Molly suddenly threw his hands up and pointed a finger at Beau. “No, let her speak! Tell me, my dear, how the _hell_ do you think _I’m_ going to benefit from this, exactly? You think this is going to make me feel better? You think this is going to make me _happy_? Well, fucking hell, _everyone’s_ trying to ‘help’ these days, eh? Why can’t you all just understand that the best thing you can do to help, is to leave me _alone_? Is to fucking butt _out_? Why can’t you all just let me be miserable by myself?!”

Beau stood there in stunned silence. Fjord looked shocked. Molly felt surprised by his own words too, but the expressions on their faces and their speechless mouths were just enough to make him feel more pleased than anything.

That is, until Beau’s eyes hardened, and she clenched her fists with rage.

“Are you…are you fucking serious?” she hissed. “Are you…gods above, are you _kidding_ me? You really think we’re gonna stand by and let you _do_ that?!”

Before Molly could say anything, she leaned over the couch and hauled him up to his feet.

“I get that you’re angry!” she yelled. “I get that you’re upset! I know you feel abandoned and I know you feel hurt, and believe it or not, I know exactly what you’re going through, right now! You have every fucking right to be upset, but if you think for one second that I’m leaving you behind, then you should fucking think again! I’m not gonna let you, not for _one_ _second,_ spend one more day destroying yourself outta misery!”

She shook Molly so hard that for a moment, he saw stars.

“You’re my fuckin’ brother, okay? _Fuck_ everyone else, fuck my parents and fuck that kid, _you’re_ a person that I give a rat’s ass about! And _you’re_ a person I can try to help! There isn’t anything in this fuckin’ world I can do right now except get you movin’ and push you through your shit, because I know for fuckin’ sure that at this rate, you aren’t gonna do a damn _thing_ for yourself! And I know that you’ve got your ideas and I know you’ve got your ways to cope, but family is all about bustin’ through them and setting you straight when you can’t do it yourself! We’re supposed to be _there_ for you! And so _I’m_ , right now, I’m _here_ for you! You, you, you _dumb_ motherfucker, this is what it’s all about! _This_ is what we’re supposed to do! And if…and if you don’t think that’s alright, then I…I…then I guess I’m wrong. And I guess we _aren’t_ family, after all.”

Her breathing was heavy in the silence that followed.

A minute passed. She put him down.

“S-sorry,” she mumbled, and brushed his sweater off. “Sorry, uh…there’s some stuff going on, right now. That was…mostly related.”

Molly just stood there. He didn’t know at all what to say.

So he did the next best thing, and slowly turned towards Fjord.

“You, ah…” He blinked a few times. “You…got a similar message for me, then?”

Fjord shrugged. “Something along those lines,” he admitted. “Less shouting. More…more apologizing, actually. We, ah…I think we should have been there for you earlier, Mol. You were…havin’ a rough time, and…nobody was checking in on you. Like Beau said, though. Now we’re here.”

“But that’s how I liked it,” Molly replied weakly. “I prefer it when no one’s worried.”

“That’s the problem,” Fjord nodded. “We didn’t do a good enough job fighting against that.”

Despite his own best efforts, Molly’s expression slowly softened. He glanced back at Beau, who had almost successfully wiped away the redness of her face.

“I’m, um, sorry then,” he said quietly. “About…well, about what I said.”

“Good,” she grunted. “Glad to hear it.”

Fjord raised a tentative hand. All eyes turned towards him.

“So…are you…coming?”

Molly nodded. “Go and get your coats on,” he said. “And give me twenty minutes to find my eyeliner.”

\--------------------------------------

They arrived at Fjord and Jester’s apartment complex approximately thirty minutes later, thanks to the combined efforts of Beau destroying Molly’s room to help him find the missing makeup, and of Fjord speeding through the freshly-cleared streets with the purpose of a man trying to follow his girlfriend’s plans to a T.

Eventually, the three of them piled into the elevator, mashed the button for the sixth floor, and it was easy riding and bad covers of pop songs all the way to the top, until eventually they exited the doors and rounded the hall and ran immediately right smack into Caleb.  

\--------------------------------------

“O…okay…” Jester whispered to the others as she stared through the peephole, “so…there _might_ have been a slight whoopsie in the timing. But… _don’t_ worry!” she waved one hand around quickly. “Just…the plan’s still the same, okay?”

“Wait, what?” Nott frowned. “Why? What’s happened?”

Jester winced slightly. Her voice was strained, but still soft.

“They, um…they ran in to Caleb. As they got out of the elevator. Molly’s…well, Molly’s here too, now, and…they’re looking at each other. They’re face-to-face.”

\--------------------------------------

What does lightning feel like, when it strikes inches from the heart? What does drowning feel like, when your lungs are full of air? What is tomorrow, for those who’d lost yesterday? What is panic, and what is guilt, and what is heartbreak greater for having been ignored? What say the eyes of the ghosts of the past? What are their whispers, and their furies, and their deep, still-buried regrets?

And for two, in that moment, in that second, in particular, what had it feel like when both their worlds collapsed?

How heavy was the knowledge that it wasn’t over, yet?

\--------------------------------------

“What are they doing now?” Nott whispered. “Are they talking? Are they…kissing? Are they fighting, again?”

“N-no…” Jester murmured. “No, they’re just…standing.”

“That is _it_?” Yasha asked. “Nothing else?”

Caduceus shook his head slowly. “What else _is_ there?” he rumbled. “What else could they possibly say?”

\--------------------------------------

“I, ah, I…I have to go,” Caleb finally mumbled, shattering the silence entirely. “I…I… _ja_ , I must leave.”

“Well, well, wait a second,” Beau reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Hang on, don’t go, we just got the gang together and we haven’t even started yet.”

“Oh, ah…you misunderstand me,” Caleb’s face was so red, it was on fire. “I just meant that the pizza-man is still waiting.” He held up a small wad of cash. “Jester, ah…Jester asked me to retrieve it.”

“Oh,” Beau said. “Oh. Uh…yeah, no, yeah.”

Her eyes—and Fjord’s eyes—were darting nervously between Caleb and Molly. Though now the tiefling wasn’t even looking up; he’d completely turned away and glued his face to the ground.

“Do you, ah…have enough cash?” Fjord murmured. “I can, um, I think I have—”

“No, no,” Caleb coughed. “No, ah, Jester did already. Did, um…give me money. Er…yes, goodbye, now.”

And he fled down the hall.

The remaining trio stood there for a few more seconds, unsure of what to do. Then Molly seemed to snap awake, and with a shake of his head, he spoke.

“Let’s not keep them waiting any longer,” he said quietly. “Let’s…come on, let’s go.”

\--------------------------------------

Jester practically tackled Molly to the ground when he entered, nearly sending his offering for the evening—a half-drunk bottle of wine—scattering against the floor. As she laughed and helped him straighten up, there was an even stranger occurrence, so weird that it broke Molly’s funk entirely: the sound of vanishing air, then a tiny _poof_ and a ball of fur that tumbled directly into his arms from the sky.

Luckily, Yasha was also standing next to him. She caught the wine before it fell, and gave Molly an amused smile.

“You have been Nugget-ed,” she informed him. “Congratulations.”

Molly tried to speak, and then couldn’t because a dog’s face was invading his own. He finally managed to hand the puppy back to Jester, and wiped his tongue off on his sleeve.

“That is…wow, you were _not_ kidding. This is the teleporting dog, then?”

Fjord pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just our luck, honestly. Me and Jes decide we’re finally ready to take on raising a puppy, and then we get one that can teleport.”

“And see ghosts,” Jester added. “I’m almost sure of it.”

Fjord didn’t even respond to that. He just pried the wine from Yasha, and took a sip.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” Caduceus said, emerging from the kitchen and giving Molly a faint nod of his head. “We were worried that you wouldn’t be around, today.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, but only faintly. The fight had really been drawn out of him, at this point.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed. “It’s a good thing you passed your keys off, eh?”

“It is,” Beau said instantly. “I would’ve kicked your door down, otherwise. And definitely not paid for it.”

“Speaking of paying,” Nott piped up from the couch, “Caleb will be back any second. We need to do this _now_.”

“Right, right!” Jester clapped her hands together. “Of course! Come on, everyone, let’s sit down.”

Molly was caught up in a wave of his friends heading for the couches. His tentative comments, raised fingers and probing questions, all fell silent on uncooperative ears.

“—which is rather rude,” he finished, right as he was plopped down between Yasha and Caduceus. “I came _all_ this way, too.”

“Which we appreciate,” Caduceus nodded. “But that also means we need to make sure this pays off.”

“ _What_ pays off?” Molly tried again. “What are you going to make me do, now?”

“It’s easy!” Jester grinned. “It’s not even hard. In a minute or two, Caleb’s gonna come back in here. I already gave him a huge pep-talk, it lasted two _whole_ hours and he’s all riled up to do this. We think he’s going to wait until some point during the movie. He’s going to ask you a question. And all you have to do, is say ‘yes.’”

Molly looked around wildly. “Wait, _what_?” he demanded. “Wait, wait, wait, _what_? What _sort_ of question?”

“Nothing crazy,” Beau informed him. “Nothing you’ll regret, _promise_.”

Molly rolled his eyes. “Yes, well, right now I rather regret even coming out here. I told you all I was busy _specifically_ because I didn’t want to interact with…with _him_ , and I gave in earlier because Beau and Fjord dropped by. Plus, well, I…I care about you lot,” he sighed. “But I’m not going to waste my time with someone who doesn’t even care about me.”

“That’s not true!” Nott argued immediately. “He cares _so_ much! He cares so much and he’s _also_ here today because he cares. _Especially_ about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Molly raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? If he cares so much, then why did he say what he did to me, eh? Why did he fucking…why didn’t he listen to what I tried to share? Why did he…why did he lead me on, for _all_ these months, and then just _abandon_ me out there in the cold? What part of that is _caring,_ to you?”

For a second, nobody moved. All eyes were on Molly and Nott.

And then, the little goblin raised her phone.

No. Not _hers._

“Caleb was holding this when I got home, that night,” she said quietly. “He was holding this and, um…and crying.”

Everybody was silent. There was something going on, in that moment, that not all of them understood. But it seemed like, for some reason, for Molly and Molly alone, this simple phrase was all he ever needed to hear.

He took the phone. He held it between his hands.

_…and crying._

He looked back at Nott, and sighed.

“Damn you,” he said. “Damn… _damn_ you. _Fuck_ me, I _knew_ that was going to bite me in the ass, someday.”

He handed it back, and rolled his eyes at all his friends.

“ _Fine_ ,” he said. “Just… _fine_. You all have my word, at least, I’ll hear what he has to say, and agree to whatever it is he wants. Just…gods, _fuck_ , I can’t _believe_ that I still care.”

\--------------------------------------

Their pizza arrived in the arms of a man who was honestly not at all strong enough to carry it. Yasha instantly rushed over to help, and together she and Caleb maneuvered the boxes into the living room, leaving a spot open next to Molly as everyone got re-settled. And at the not-very-subtle insistence of quite a few of their friends, Caleb took it. His face was blazing red again. His mouth looked like it was shut so tightly, no words would ever leak out.

Which was…fine. Whatever. Molly wasn’t exactly in a hurry, and more than a few people, puppy included, would probably try to tackle him if he left.

Neither of them said a thing as the movie started up. Neither of them even gave their input during the preshow debate—

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Beau shouted, waving her hands around. “No, no, we are _not_ watching _The Thousand-Year Raven._ I can’t fucking _stand_ that movie.”

“ _What_?” Nott jolted forward. “But it’s so _sweet_! And so romantic.”

“It is quite well written,” Yasha added softly. “I like it too.”

Beau made a face, and leaned back. “I just don’t like it,” she grumbled. “I say no.”

“Aw, _Beau_ ,” Jester giggled, “you just don’t want to watch it because it makes you _cry_.”

“It does _not_ —”

—and only when the disc was inserted and the lights properly dimmed, when everyone’s attention had affixed to the television, only then did Molly finally feel himself begin to relax.

As much as he could, anyways, given the sharp sensation of Caleb’s shoulder pressed against his own for lack of space. Or his face only inches away. Or their legs, touching, palms nearby, together in the gentle darkness.

A lifetime ago, this would have been Molly’s greatest wish. All he had wanted was to stay by Caleb’s side, keep their bodies close, their hearts beating but a breath apart.

Today, it was like torture. That, of course, and the words now burning bright in his mind:

_He’s going to ask you a question. And all you have to do, is say ‘yes.’_

_But to what?_ He wondered _. What would he possibly want?_

“Molly?” Caleb whispered.

Molly had to stop himself from jolting forwards in surprise. He forced his breath calm, and took a tiny peek out of the corner of his eye.

Caleb’s gaze was glued to the television. Steadfastly holding still. Only a faint glimmer in those cool blue eyes betrayed just how terrified the other man was feeling.

Strangely enough, this was very reassuring. Molly let out a faint sigh.

Slowly, so softly as to almost not be seen, he nodded.

“Yes?”

There was a pause. On the screen in front of them, a figure with blazing red hair was crying.

Then Caleb spoke again.

“Do you, ah…are you doing anything, this weekend?”

Molly’s brain instantly went into panic mode.

 _Wait, wait, wait._ What? _Was_ this _the question? Was he supposed to turn Caleb down? Was he_ supposed _to stay away_?

He shook his head to clear the clutter. But Caleb was paying _very_ close attention, and he seemed to take this as a response.

“Ah,” he said, “ah…good.” His eyes fell down to his knees. “I was wondering um…if perhaps, um…perhaps you would like to get dinner with me?”

Molly said nothing. His tongue seemed to have forgotten all words.

Caleb stiffened slightly at the silence, but to his credit, he forged on ahead.

“It is, ah…it is a nice restaurant. The, um, the one where we met, actually. It is not a date,” he added hastily, “it is more of a…a…a meeting.”

There was a part of Molly, always bright, always there, always ready to poke for some fun.

“A meeting?” The tease slipped out before he could stop it. “Are we coworkers, then?”

Bless his soul, bless his damn beautiful soul, Caleb actually gave a faint laugh.

“If that is what we need to be, then sure,” he murmured. “Sure. I just…I would just like to clear the air. Ah…I think we need to talk. About…what happened. I hope maybe...you could consider having dinner with me, as a start?”

Molly was quiet for a moment. The woman on the television was suddenly joined by a group of others, one woman with dark hair in particular moving to kneel by her side.

They embraced, and the music went soft.

“ _Thank you,_ ” said the red-haired woman, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “ _Thank you…thank you so much, for being here.”_

“ _Always, darling_ ,” said the dark-haired woman. “ _I know how you feel. I…I’m glad neither of us have to face this alone_.”

Molly risked another glance around. All his friends were leaning out of their chairs, eyes wide and faces still, mouths agape and waiting, unmoving, for what would come next.

People need time, to heal.

He felt a tiny, tiny, _tiny_ part of him, nod.

“Of course,” he whispered. “I’d love to.”

Sometimes you can feel it begin, even when you aren’t quite sure what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaaankkks so so much for reading!! Please excuse any typos, since I wanted to push this out before the episode aired!! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please please please if you'd like, consider leaving comments/kudos!! it really keeps me going, and I appreciate it almost as much as I appreciate all you lovely readers <3
> 
> As always, I'm also kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com), and all my drabbles and such are on that page too, if you so need something to hold yourself over between updates!!


	33. Your Most Precious Memories, Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: the dog days continue, letters and conversations, a visit to the enchanter, laundry and tickets, the hoot owl of death, moving on, TUSK LOVE 2: ALL MY FRIENDS ARE INSANE, the day arrives, Support from the Mighty Nein, waiting and wanting, a fateful encounter
> 
> (and a special shoutout to the lovely @mochagabe for helping me figure out how to introduce the professor ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

“It says here,” said Fjord, the next morning, as Jester chased their dog around the apartment with a plastic bone in one hand and his crate in the other, “that Nugget can only teleport to places he can _see_.”

“Right, right, okay!” She dove directly into a cloud of smoke that disappeared and then re-appeared at the end of the hall. “How does that help _us_ , exactly?”

“It helps a ton!” Fjord called as she ran off. “That means if we get ‘im in the carrier and block off the bars with a cloth or something, he can’t teleport out!”

“Shoot, _really_? Hey, that’s— _fuck, balls,_ hold still, Nuggy, hold _still_ —”

Fjord watched the two of them re-enter the kitchen and do a frantic lap around the counter. A bar stool went flying, as well as a number of squeaky toys.

“Want me to cast Hold Person?” he suggested. “I’m not sure if it’ll work on a dog, but I could give it a shot.”

Jester paused in her attempted animal-wrangling to shoot him a withering glare. Fjord sank down slightly into his chair.

“Sorry, sorry, it was just an idea.”

It ended up taking her about ten more minutes of running around before she finally managed to grab Nugget and shower him with enough affection to distract him from teleporting away. And once he was safely tucked into her arms, finally tuckered out and ready to nap, she prodded him gently into his crate and quickly threw a blanket over it. Nugget immediately barked in protest, but the long stretch of silence afterwards suggested either that he no longer cared, or he had fallen asleep.

Jester collapsed onto the nearest sofa. She draped a hand across her forehead.

“Mission accomplished,” she announced to the ceiling. “How’s the research going?”

“Well,” Fjord said, “I’ve got good news, and then bad news.”

“Lay it on me,” Jester nodded. “Good news first.”

Fjord swiveled his laptop around. He pointed to a picture of a small, silver collar.

“So it says here on the Wildemount Kennel Club website, that blink dogs are a super-rare species of canine with a fey ancestry that allows them to teleport, blink around, yadda, yadda, that whole shebang.”

“Right, right,” Jester nodded. “What about it?”

“Well, apparently, they aren’t _so_ rare that people haven’t seen any before. In fact, they’ve been popping up all over the empire for the last hundred years or so, in races and shows and things like that. And the people who raise ‘em, make them wear these special collars that prevent the puppies from portin’ around. Unless you say a special command word. It’s, like, apparently it’s a whole big thing, and it all comes back to the collar.”

“That’s great news, though!” Jester said, sitting upright and leaning over the couch-back. “We just have to get one of those, and we can teach Nuggy when it’s okay to teleport!”

“Er…that’s the bad news.”

Her face fell. “Shoot,” she said, “I forgot that was coming.”

Fjord scrolled down and tapped his screen once again. “To control the trade of blink dogs and whatnot,” he explained, “there’s a whole legal process you gotta go through to acquire a collar. Apparently they’re only made by certain enchanters, scattered across the continent, and you need to have a special license to purchase it. _And_ it says you need a license to, uh, to own a blink dog in the first place. Because they’re so rare.”

“ _Damn_ it,” Jester glanced over at the crate. “Damn, what…what are we supposed to do, then? Does that mean we have Nugget illegally? And if people find out, will they try to take him away from us?”

“I sure hope not,” Fjord sighed. “I…I’d hate to give him up, and from the looks of the site it’s not like we’re _incapable_ of taking care of him. I mean, it literally says here that it’s just like raising a normal dog. Plus teleporting.”

“But without that collar, we can’t raise him right,” Jester murmured. “And as…as much as I love him, I want to make sure that Nugget is properly trained. If we can’t do that, then…then…”

She trailed off. She stared dejectedly at the ground, and Fjord’s brain went into overdrive trying to figure out a solution.

It came, a few seconds later, when the corner of his eye caught his right-hand index finger.

An idea began to form.

“Hey, Jes,” he called softly, “hey, it’s…yeah, it’s okay.”

She wiped her sleeve against her face. “Huh? What do you mean, Fjord?”

He held up his hand. The Ring of Control Water shone with the morning sun.

“I think I have a plan,” he announced. “Can you make sure Nugget’s secure in that crate? I’m just gonna make a call.”

\--------------------------------------

“I’m going to _explode_ if I have to write another damn _letter_ ,” Molly groaned, sinking down into his chair and pressing his chin to his laptop. “How far along are you, dear? If you finish first, you can have some of mine.”

There was a pause, and then the sound of furious clicking. Yasha glanced up.

“I have completed six,” she said. “I have one hundred and nineteen left to send. How do you spell ‘compunctious’?”

“I, er, I try not to.” Then Molly paused. “ _Six_? We’ve been here two hours!”

“Sorry. I am a slow typer.”

“Gods above,” Molly sighed. “Here, here, in that case, I’ll give you a hand.”

The two of them were currently seated at one end of the picnic table constituting the Fletching and Moondrop’s temporary Office of Internal Affairs. It had been set up, rather haphazardly, just a few days ago, and now not only contained a power strip, a space heater, and a few folding chairs, but also a fake potted plant and a very battered coffee-maker, both pulled from the depths of a long-abandoned storage room. Desmond and Gustav had already consumed about six cups each; Molly still was holding out, but just barely.

The rest of the main hall, not occupied by Team “Let’s Get Our Bar Back,” looked like a warzone. All around them were trash bags, garbage bins, stacks upon stacks of discarded wood, chewed away by wet rot in the nonoperational months. There were coils of loose wires and heaps of scrapped furniture, some empty wine bottles, broken and dangerous, and right in the center of the whole creaking mess, three enormous glass chandeliers that had been taken down, early on, to be inspected and reinstalled.

This was what progress looked like, Gustav had said, that morning, to the tune of power saws, hammers, rolling measuring tapes and sparking wires. After that, he’d had to go and lie down, but Desmond was around today to make sure he was alright.

Now the two of them were wide awake and quite busy, heatedly discussing their plans for the re-opening ceremony. Desmond had mentioned that soon, they would need to get the troupe back together, to shake the rust out of everyone’s lungs and get them back into performing shape. Molly had gotten the hint that he should probably resume practicing as well, and while before he might have rolled his eyes and begrudgingly agreed, today not a single cell in his body wasn’t ecstatic.

After all, he was home. A lot had changed in these last few months, but now the Moondrop was back—or, at least, humming with activity. It didn’t matter that the contractors were tearing her apart before they put her back together, and it didn’t matter that most of the troupe was still scattered to the far corners of the continent.

There was _life_ in the building again, slowly inching in through the walls. And for the group, for Molly, that was all that really mattered.  

In a way, everything was almost back to normal. Everything except, of course, except…

“Hey, Yasha?” he asked.

This was two more apology letters later. Molly had scooted his chair back into place, and now he was staring intently at his friend.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

By now, there was no point left in being circuitous. He took a short, quick breath.

“I’m afraid of getting into another fight with Caleb.”

There was a pause as she processed this. The heater whirred on in the silence. Desmond and Gustav’s whispers carried softly across the table.

Finally, Yasha blinked. She leaned in.

“Why do you think you would?” she asked. “What would even cause that?”

Molly sighed. “Truth be told, I don’t even know,” he admitted. “I just…I just don’t _know_ , Yasha. I don’t know what’ll happen, and I don’t know what I’ll say, and really, a part of me doesn’t even know what I want, anymore.”

“I thought you wanted Caleb,” she frowned. “Is that not what this all has been about?”

“I mean… _yes_?” He threw his hands into the air. “At least, I thought so? I…I _thought_ I just wanted us to be together, and I thought all I needed was, you know, the chance to stay by his side. But now, today, I’m not so sure, anymore. I…I think I still love him. Gods, no, I definitely _know_ I still love him, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have agreed to tomorrow.” He gave a her a vague, rather weak smile. “I just don’t know where we stand, anymore.”

“Do you think your fighting has changed things?” she asked. “That a relationship is not possible, anymore?”

“I sure _hope_ not, but yes.”

She nodded slowly. She tapped her chin.

“Tell me this, then. Why, again, is it that you _wanted_ a relationship in the first place?”

Molly wracked his brains for the answer. He thought back, thought hard, and then a memory stirred gently at the back of his mind.

Weeks ago, at the Winter Market. A conversation similar to this one.

“I think…yes, I think I said something similar, before,” he murmured. “I…told you that in the beginning, it was for fun. Then it was because, well…in the short time we had gotten to know each other, everything was soft, and it was safe, and I had someone who accepted my past—or lack thereof, I suppose—without even a second thought. And he was funny, and charming, and, well, rather attractive.”

“I remember this. I still do not think I can agree.”

“Trust me dear,” he laughed. “I have wonderful taste.”

“If you say so.”

Molly grinned at her, then pressed on. “Anyways, er…I think a big part of it all was that, well, that Caleb cared about me. But then when the fight happened, I…thought that maybe, he _didn’t_ care. But apparently he did, I just think the message got confused, or something? But all of that uncertainty, that worrying and…and avoiding, it just…it made me wonder if things like that could happen again. And I think I’m afraid that even if we talk it out, or whatever, even if we admit our feelings and, and, and, stuff, well…who’s to say it’ll all be fixed? We certainly said…not great things to each other, and I…learned things about Caleb that, well, that I’m not entirely sure how to handle. I don’t, er…I don’t know much of what I’m doing, dear. I tried to help him, back up there on the balcony, I tried to convince him he wasn’t at fault, but…I think I just ended up hurting him. And I’m, ah, I’m rather terrified of doing that again.”

Molly’s gaze fell back to his keyboard. A faint smile still lingered on his face, but really that could have meant anything.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Yasha stirred. She reached out and put a hand over Molly’s.

“When have _you_ ever shied away from risk?” she asked.

Molly blinked. His eyes crept back up.

“Excuse me?”

“You are worried,” Yasha said softly. “You are scared, yes?”

He chuckled. “That might be an understatement, dear.”

Her mouth quirked upwards, to match his defensive humor. “Yes, well, I think it is okay you are feeling this way. That is normal. That is what it is like, to be in love.”

Molly sighed. He nodded, very slowly. “To be honest, this…this might be my first time,” he admitted. “It seems like a lot more work than I thought.”

“It is work,” Yasha agreed. “It is a lot of work. And time. And pain. And talking about things, and failing at things, even if you do not want to.”

“Even if you _really_ don’t want to?”

“Yes. That is just how love can grow. It is fear, and it is panic, and it can be cruel.” She leaned back. “But, also, because of that, love is nothing but awful.”

There was a very, very, very long pause.

Molly raised his hand.

“ _Awful_?”

“It inspires awe.”

“Oh. Oh, like _that_.”

Yasha gave his hand a gentle pat. “There is nothing wrong with taking a risk,” she said, “especially if it is for love. Even when…even when that risk does not pay off, it is still okay that you tried. And even if you struggle to move on, it is…sometimes there is nothing you can do but keep going. I did not believe that, before. But now I think—and I have had some time now, to really think—that, well, when the risk does not work out…it is not fair, and it is terrible and unfortunate and…and sometimes, there is no reason why. I will never forget what I have lost.”

Then she took a slow breath, and met Molly’s gaze. “But there are things that I found later on, that I could not part with today. And I also do not know what I want, not exactly, but I know what I have, and I…I know what I want to keep. As I told you a few days ago, I am afraid that I am not ready, yet, but maybe…maybe I should listen to my own advice. I think, at least, it is time I did something.”

“S…something?”

“Yes. That is better than nothing.”

And, with that, the spell in the air faded. The general cacophony of construction melted back into reality.

Molly blinked. Then he blinked again. Yasha’s mismatched eyes fell to the table. 

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Then:

“Yasha?”

“Yes?”

“Are you…alright?”

There was a faint sigh. Mostly sad, but somehow containing the lilt of a chuckle.

“That is a very good question,” she conceded. “I may have to get back to you on that.”

“I guess we should check in on each other more,” Molly joked, though not wholly. “I think, ah…I think maybe that might help.”

“I think you are correct,” Yasha sighed. “There is…a lot has happened these past few months, is that not so?”

“That is _very_ so,” Molly chuckled. “Our lives have been one big rollercoaster since winter started.”

“Even more than usual.”

“Ha! We should charge tickets, dear! We’d make a fortune!”

“But not all of our friends could join,” Yasha reasoned. “Some of them are too short to ride.”

Molly clapped his hands together. His heart was pounding, with relief and with something else. “Caleb’s a wizard!” he declared in a laugh. “I’m sure he has spells that could make ‘em big. And, ah…Yasha?”

“Yes?”

His tone softened.

“Thanks.”

There was a slow nod, and then a warm smile.

“Thank you too, Mollymauk. I am glad that we are friends.”

\--------------------------------------

It wasn’t very cold out today, which was good considering how little Caduceus was wearing. Of course, it helped that he was covered head-to-toe in fur, but Fjord felt that there was something bordering on insulting about the way the firbolg could waltz through the Pentamarket in below-freezing temperatures with only his regular indoor clothes, and an apron.

It was red. It had a feather on it.

“I really appreciate you helping us during your lunch break,” Jester beamed, as Caduceus guided them back through the streets. “You really saved us from some trouble, there.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Caduceus chuckled. “I was meaning to introduce you all to Pumat anyways, it was good that you got the chance to meet him.”

“He certainly was an interestin’ person,” Fjord said, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Four interestin’ persons.”

“That’s just how he is,” Caduceus nodded. “I could tell he liked meeting you, though it was odd that he seemed to like meeting Jester more.”

Fjord thought about the ring on his index finger. He tried to recall Pumat’s expression when Caduceus had first pointed it out.

“Jester’s just a fun person to be around,” he shrugged. “Who _wouldn’t_ like meeting her?”

She giggled at that, and nudged him playfully in the side, doing her best not to swing Nugget’s crate around.

“Well, I hope we made a good impression!” she proclaimed. “I still can’t _believe_ you managed to convince him, he seems so fancy and not like the type to break laws.”

“He’s just a really good person,” Caduceus said. “I suppose he understood when I told him it was urgent.”

Next, Fjord replayed _that_ interaction in his mind. Caduceus had said the words “Can I ask—” and Pumat had instantly agreed.

“Sure,” he nodded along. “A real nice guy.”

“The best,” Caduceus grinned. “Hey, what are you both getting up to, now? If you want, I can give you a tour of Nila’s shop, too.”

“Would she be alright with that?” Jester asked. “We’ve got a _dog_ with us.”

There was a faint, muffled bark. Nugget was always listening.

“Don’t worry at all,” Caduceus chuckled. “I happen know a little boy who’d love to meet him.”

\--------------------------------------

Caleb and Nott’s apartment was located just a few buildings down from a small laundromat, owned and operated by an older tabaxi woman whose fur perpetually stuck up on end thanks to the thick sheet of static generated by her many drying machines. This establishment was modest, rather plain, and looked like it belonged on the cover of _Unassuming Décor Weekly_. It was also home to Caleb for about three hours once every two weeks, when he hefted his laundry in a large canvas sack through the glass double doors to be dealt with.

Now he was sitting along the low windowsill, a timer running peacefully at the back of his mind. The forefront was focused on a particularly promising scholarly article discussing the confluences of arcane phenomena and their social impacts throughout the ages. He really _had_ been missing out, not using his phone. It was a marvel how quickly technology could advance when you weren’t paying attention. Hundreds of academic papers now lived at the edges of his fingertips, only a flick of the screen away.

Of course, he’d printed the journal out in its entirety at the library just an hour earlier, but that was merely a side-detail.

And after breezing through dozens of pages and highlighting quite a number of convoluted phrases—among them being _“the secular features of unrecognizable phenomena are recognized”_ and “ _according to the equivalently and considerably high frequency (52%) of migratory Diomedeidae_ ” and “ _there is no causal relationship between these phenomena, but there are the correlations due to some causes of astronomy_ ” and “ _anthropogenic arcane ameliorations, in their historical, scientific, political, legal, and socioeconomic contexts, mostly implicit or unstated, embody norms perpetrated in tremendous waves dating back to the Pre-Divergence (1224 AD) and the Disputed Beginning of the Age of Arcanum (29 AD), furthermore proving that the mages of that era subscribed to a series of erroneous and fundamentally imprudent beliefs regarding the fragility of their own mortal souls and their physical bodies residing the Prime Material Plane, additionally showing that, in_ fact, _their true goals,”_ —Caleb put his reading down.

The little timer in his brain was going off. That meant it was time to start his second load of laundry.

He collected his things and shuffled off to the machine, swinging his half-empty canvas sack behind him. He fished his freshly-washed clothing out of the interior without getting too much soapy water on himself, then placed it in a basket and shoved the next round through the door. Then, just as he was about to hit “start,” it occurred to him that he should also wash his favorite jacket.

He straightened up and slipped it off. He gently brushed away some dust with his hands, then reached into the pockets to make sure they were empty.

Most were. One wasn’t.

Caleb felt the nudge of paper, tucked neatly away into the recesses of cloth. He gripped it— _them,_ he realized, _there was more than one_ —between his thumb and forefinger, and retrieved the mysterious items into the light.

They were tickets. Two. To an event of some kind, maybe a show?

He brought them closer and read the printed words.

_Oh._

“Gods,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “Gods above, you forgot about this, didn’t you?”

He turned them over slowly, knowing there was nothing on the back. They felt surprisingly heavy in his palm.

After a while, he moved on. He finished inspecting his coat. He threw it into the washing machine with the rest of the laundry, then went to start the dryer. Only after that, did he get a chance to slip the tickets between the pages of his reading.

He wouldn’t forget them, this time.

He’d better not, since _Leonore_ was only four days away.

\--------------------------------------

When Beau returned home from the Cobalt Soul that evening—body bruised but feeling accomplished, brain stuffed to the brim with fresh knowledge—she had been expecting to immediately nod at Yasha, grab a beer out of the fridge, then go and draw a bath and fall asleep among the suds (drowning being something that other people worried about).

What she hadn’t expected, was this:

“Close the door, please, close the door!” Yasha shouted. “I can only keep my grip for so long!”

“What?!” Beau screamed, and instantly shut the door. She looked around wildly, and then her eyes got wider. “Yasha, what the—what the _fuck_?!”

Their apartment was a scene of carnage. Newspapers lay torn across the ground, a bag of birdseed was scattered onto the carpet, feathers were strew all throughout the kitchen and in the middle of it all was Yasha herself, holding an enormous grey owl in her hands, wearing a pair of gardener’s gloves and looking more and more apprehensive by the second.

Beau needed an understandably long time to process this. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t get that chance, because the second she spoke and took a step closer, the owl started thrashing and Yasha—trying desperately not to injure it—had no other option but to let go.

It took off, rocketing through the living room like a pinwheel of feathery death, aiming for their heads and screeching into the air. Finally, after a lot of ducking, screaming, shouting, and a frantic mad dash for the balcony door, Beau finally managed to throw the handle back _just_ as the owl hurtled towards her face. She jumped out of the way, felt a beak whoosh past her cheek, and then the bird—and its fury—vanished swiftly into the night.

There was a pause, after that, filled with the sound of a thousand questions elbowing each other for space.

And then Beau turned. She _stared_ at Yasha.

“…okay. What the _fuck_.”

\--------------------------------------

“Annnd…poof!” Jester said. “Poof! Aw, good _boy_ , Nugget, good _boy_!”

This was followed by ecstatic barking and an unrelenting shower of slobber. Fjord chuckled and waved his hand at their dog.

“Come here, now, Nugget!” he coaxed. “Poof over to Daddy, now, c’mon!”

Nugget blinked at him. And then he barked a few times, and ran over.

Jester laughed as Fjord was plowed over by their dog and treated to a series of very wet kisses. “Hey, at least he likes you!” she grinned. “Isn’t that right, buddy? Isn’t your papa silly?”

“How—oh, jeez, Nugget, please—how come he only poofs when _you_ tell him? That ain’t fair, Jes!”

“I just have a way with animals,” she grinned. “Come on, Nuggy, come and poof over here, now! Gosh, _everybody_ should get a pet, they’re so fun!”

\--------------------------------------

“Just…one more time,” Beau said slowly. “ _How_ did this all happen, again?”

The two of them were crouched down in the living room now, trying to clean up in the wake of the owl’s departure. They had already managed to stack all the newspapers into a corner, and rearrange everything the bird’s manic flight had knocked over. Beau was doing her best to wipe an unfortunate white stain off the couch, and Yasha was tidying up clouds of feathers. They were actually quite pretty, and there was something rather nostalgic about picking down off of furniture.

“I found an owl,” she said, and added another tan plume to her collection. “I brought it home.”

“But how did you just _find_ an owl?” Beau cried. “Are they just roamin’ the streets, these days?”

“The skies,” Yasha corrected absently. “I do not know about the streets. I left raw meat on the balcony, and it appeared a few hours later. Then I grabbed it.”

Beau threw her hands into the air. Adult life was already so goddamn weird.

“Why did you bring it into the _house_?” she asked. “What…gods above, it’s an _owl,_ not a pet!”

“I thought you _wanted_ an owl as a pet,” Yasha frowned. “Or, er…any bird, if I remember correctly. Is that not what you said?”

Beau blinked. She closed her mouth. She opened it again.

“Are you…are you talking about the night I got back from the shelter? When we got Nugget’s papers?”

“Yes.” Yasha nodded. “You told me you wanted a bird.”

Beau set her sponge aside. She thought about this for a moment.

“You _remembered_ that?” she asked eventually. “ _I’m_ the reason this happened?”

“Yes,” Yasha said. “I, ah…I thought it would make you happy.”

Beau decided to take a seat on the couch, though carefully avoided the sorry white stain. She sighed and put her chin in her palm.

“ _Why_ did you want to do that?” she asked.

Yasha seemed taken aback by this question. She waved the feathers in her hands around while she tried to find the answer.

There was a moment, waiting and still. Then:

“Because…because I care about you,” she finally admitted. “I…I do. And I wanted to show you that, by getting you a gift. But you do not like flowers, I _thought_ you liked birds, so the owl is what I went with.”

“But…but… _why_ do you care?” Beau asked immediately. Now her tone was halting, and hesitant as the conversation steered into unknown waters. “What’s…what’s there to care _about_?”

“What?” Yasha looked shocked. “Wait, now, what do you mean?”

“Well, uh…jeez, Yasha, I mean…I’m just _me_. I’m just ‘Beau.’” She shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have to give me any grand gestures, or whatever, I mean…I appreciated it, but I’m good. I’m…I’m _fine_.”

“But _are_ you?” Yasha suddenly took a step closer. “I ask that truly, are you _really_ fine? You…you…gods, you did drugs with Molly, the other day, and you have seemed so unhappy for a large part of this week. I…I am very worried that I had something to do with that, and I am…if I am being honest, I am afraid my presence in this house is torturing you.”

“ _What_?” Beau’s eyebrows shot up. “What the—Yasha, how could you ever be _torture_?”

“Because…because…” she floundered, and sent the feathers flying. “Because I am _here_ with you, but I am not here _with_ you! Despite many things I have realized about myself, and about you, I…I have not done anything to explain my problem. I have just let you pine, and let you suffer, and I never did anything to help. So I thought…I thought…I would get you this bird. I would show that I care about us being friends, in a weird family. I do not know what the future holds, Beauregard, but…I know I would like you in mine. And I was afraid I was losing your interest, or that chance. Perhaps it was selfish, or foolish, but…but…I am not a very wise person. And in the moment, I suppose I thought it was right.”

She stared holes into the floor. The feathers in her fingers trembled softly in the air.

“I have not been very good to you, Beau. Even though I think you deserve so much.”

They fell from her hands. They landed on the carpet. And, for just that moment, neither of them spoke; they waited, in the silence, for what would come next.

And then carefully, very carefully, Beau let out a long breath.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Oh. Uh…” She ran a hand through her hair. “Oh.”

Yasha took a seat on the couch. She put her head into her hands.

Beau listened to her frustrated groans for a bit. Then she slid down the cushions and took the seat beside her. She tentatively put a hand on Yasha’s shoulder.

“Um…er…”

She shook her head. She sighed.

“I wasn’t actually upset about _you,_ ” she said. “I…I actually kind of accepted a long time ago, that I’d just be alright being around you. I wasn’t…I wasn’t really expecting anything, in return.”

Yasha’s gaze snapped up. “Wait, what? But that is…that is not fair, to you.”

“Nothing’s ever been fair,” Beau shrugged. “That’s alright. I deal. But, um…you were right about one thing. Recently, I haven’t been dealing that well. I, uh…” Beau’s other hand twisted at her sleeve, then stopped.

“I, um, I want to tell you something,” she said quietly. “Something…about my family. Then, I think, maybe you’ll understand?”

Yasha was silent. And then she nodded.

“Okay,” she murmured. “Alright. But after that, I think I need to tell you about mine.”

\--------------------------------------

A long breath of silence stretched wide through the air. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. Yasha’s throat was dry from all her words, and Beau’s cheeks were still lightly stained with tears.

But eventually, through the waiting, their voices wavered to life.

“We are…gods, we are _broken_ people, huh?”

Yasha laughed faintly. “I guess we are,” she agreed. “That seems to be the case.”

“Fuck, though, I mean… _fuck_. Your…your tribe did _that_ , huh?”

“Yes. And your parents did _that_.”

Beau waved a dismissive hand. “Hey, it’s _nothing_ compared to wh—”

“No. They hurt you.”

Another pause. Another breath. They stared up at the ceiling together, in silence.

“Do you think I should tell the others?” Beau whispered. “I mean, a few of them have some details, but not everybody knows everything.”

“Do you think it would help?”

“Dunno. I guess it might.”

“Maybe, then, if you want to. Do you think that _I_ should say something?”

“Does Molly know?”

“Not really. Not everything.”

“Do you want him to?”

Yasha hesitated.

“…maybe? Er…yes, maybe, but only after _his_ problems are sorted. I would not want to burden him.”

“I don’t think it’s a burden,” Beau sighed. “If anything, I, uh, I’m glad you let me know.”

“I am glad you did, too.” Yasha nodded. “I…never had a family like yours, but I think maybe that I dodged a bullet.”

“Ha! Well, I’d hate to be saddled with what you got going—fuck, sorry. That’s…that was tasteless.”

“No.” Yasha shrugged. “I understand what you meant.”

The lights above them hummed. The sun had set long, long ago, but the curtains were still open, and the moon shone softly through.

“Hey, Yasha?”

“Yes?”

“What are _we_?”

There was a beat. A quivering thought.

“I…I do not know. I am a hypocrite.”

“Er…sorry?”

“I just mean…” Yasha sighed. “I just mean that I am afraid of the answer. I have been telling people to move on, but still I cannot follow through, myself.”

“ _Hey_ , now, oh my gods, hey,” Beau sat up straight, and shook her head. “Seriously, there’s…gods, don’t say that. Your…your fuckin’ _wife_ was killed, that’s not…that’s not something you can just move _on_ from.”

“I know,” Yasha mumbled. “Believe me, I know. I still love her. Every day, I do. But…at the same time, now…she is not the only one…”

She trailed off. She couldn’t finish.

She didn’t have to.

“It’s okay,” Beau murmured. “Yasha? It’s…it’s okay. I was prepared to wait before, and now I think I was right to do that. You made a promise to me, a long time ago, that you’d never leave. And I want to make the same promise to you. I’ll always be here. I’m…I’m not afraid. And…if you aren’t ready to move yet, you don’t have to. We don’t have to be anything, we can just…we can just _be_. And we’ll take it slow. We’ll…we’ll figure it out.”

Pressed this close together, Yasha could feel her heartbeat. Nervousness jumped with every pulse.

She looked up. She caught those eyes.

The air around them was gentle, and warm.

“Okay,” Yasha said. “Okay.”

\--------------------------------------

Time, as it always does, moved on.

Now the living room had been fully cleaned and the air—literally, metaphorically—fully cleared. Beau and Yasha were standing in the kitchen, their faces pressed against the window and staring out onto the balcony through the glass.

“He seems really pissed though,” Beau said. “I feel like if we open that door, he’ll kill us.”

“But it is very cold outside,” Yasha murmured. “I feel bad being warm here, when he is not.”

“He’s, like, got feathers and shit, though. Shouldn’t he be fine?”

“He is not flying away,” Yasha observed. “I think he wants to come inside.”

There was a long, long, long pause. Then Beau sighed. A tremendous amount of worry, of fear, of uncertainty, melted away with her next breath.

“Alright, alright, _fine_ ,” she said. “Let’s…go get those gloves back on, I guess, I’ll…gods, I’ll figure out what it eats.”

\--------------------------------------

 **TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO  
** Today | 11:29PM

 **Drunkmonk:** just out of curiosity  
**Drunkmonk:** does anybody know how to take care of an owl

Today | 11:41PM

 **Seaman:** im literally not even gonna ask  
**NottSoBrave:** try feeding it grapes  
**Lavender Thunder:** WHY would it eat GRAPES???  
**NottSoBrave:** I dunno, I just want to know what would happen  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** kiri really liked grapes  
**Seaman:** but kiri was also like ,, basically a human child  
**Seaman:** this is a fucking OWL we’re talkin!  
**Gayleb:** internet says mice  
**Gayleb:** do you need any mice  
**Drunkmonk:** gods I will NEVER get used to seeing you respond to this chat  
**Gayleb:** I am sorry I can go silent again if necessary  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** No!!! Noooooooooooo  
**Lavender Thunder:** we’ve worked so hard to get you in here, you should stay and share your thoughts  
**Lavender Thunder:** what sort of mice are we talking  
**Gayleb:** errrrrrrr  
**Gayleb:** field mice, I think  
**Drunkmonk:** we live in the SECOND BIGGEST CITY IN THE EMPIRE where the FUCK am I gonna get a FIELD MOUSE  
**Gayleb:** try the field  
**Seaman:** wow we’ve really been missin out on some quality entertainment without you around huh  
**Gayleb:** thank you I do my best  
**Drunkmonk:** gods youre not helpful at all  
**Drunkmonk:** we should just  
**Drunkmonk:** wait holy shit nevermind  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:**??????  
**(** **✿** **´** **ω** **｀):**???  
**Drunkmonk:** yasha uh  
**Drunkmonk:** yasha just gave it another fistful of hamburger meat

Beauregard sent a photo

 **Drunkmonk:** his name will be professor Thaddeus  
**NottSoBrave:** wow look at that  
**NottSoBrave:** just a girl and her flying bird of death

Today | 12:01AM

 **Seaman:** I have the most interesting friends in the world  
**Lavender Thunder:** <333333

\--------------------------------------

Saturday arrived with less fanfare than a day of such importance should have held. Their mornings were swift, and rushed, and hurried, though Molly still found time to drop by Gustav’s, and Caleb took an extra-long break in his reading.

Then all there was left was to wait, and to see.

The clock crept onwards. Evening approached.

\--------------------------------------

 **The Get Caleb and Molly to Stop Being Idiots Super Fun Adventure Squad**  
Today | 4:06PM

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** oooookay, guys  
**(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** ready?  
**Gayleb:** you know, I still do not think this is necessary  
**Gayleb:** you all stay home, it is fine  
**Drunkmonk:** hey, nobody asked you  
**Drunkmonk:** shut up and start getting ready, we’ll be over in 20 minutes

“Think of it this way,” volunteered Nott, as Caleb groaned and set his phone down. “This just means that they care.”

\--------------------------------------

“You know, I think this is the _most_ crazy Molly’s ever been, tryin’ to pick an outfit,” Fjord said. “Back when he was my roommate he was bad, but not _this_ bad.”

“It’s the craziest I’ve seen him too,” Caduceus agreed. “I’ve only had him a few weeks, but I never thought _anyone_ could make that much noise. Just by going through a closet, too.”

“The neighbors have complained before,” Fjord sighed. “He’s a menace to himself and society.”

The two of them were sitting in the apartment’s kitchen, listening to a series of shouting, thumping, and clattering, all coming from down the hall. Occasionally, there would be a sudden outburst, almost always in Molly’s voice, and then something along the lines of, “oh, _gods_ , no,” or “ _fuck me_ , that’s _disgusting_ ,” or “Moonweaver save me, I can’t go on like this,” or “why is _everything_ in my closet fucking paisley?!”

Sometimes, Yasha’s voice would respond. Too quiet to be understood, but usually enough to stop the screaming.

“You think she has practice doing that?” Fjord asked. “It seems like she’s really good at getting him to shut up.”

Caduceus considered this. He rubbed his chin.

“I think it’s a bit like playing an instrument,” he said eventually. “You just need to know what strings to pull.”

“I always thought Molly was more of like…a trumpet, or something,” Fjord mused. “He’s certainly loud enough.”

“Valves, then,” Caduceus conceded. “You need to know which ones to, uh…hit?”

Fjord shrugged. “Sure. Your guess is as good as mine.”

\--------------------------------------

“Alright!” Beau clapped her hands together. “Shoot me.”

“Are you sure?” Nott asked. “I feel kind of bad, doing that.”

“Nah, nah,” Beau shook her head. “Come on, I can take—”

A crossbow bolt sliced straight towards her neck.

She _just_ managed to snatch it from the air before impact, though its metal tip did leave a red mark blazing across her palm. She dropped the bolt immediately, shook her hand, and swore.

“Oh, gods, Nott, what the _fuck_? What the—what the _fuck_?”

“You said to shoot you!” Nott protested immediately. “You—you told me you could take it!”

“Yeah, but— _gods_ , you said you didn’t want to!”

“I was lying! I thought it would be better to catch you off-guard!”

“How the _hell_ would that be _better_?!” Beau demanded. “That was—fucking hell, that was a killing blow!”

“It wouldn’t have _actually_ killed you,” Nott muttered. “It wasn’t strong enough for that.”

“It was strong enough to cut my damn _hand_ —”

“Yeah, because you tried to catch it! What are you, _stupid_?”

Beau’s face had gone scarlet. She stamped her feet against the floor.

“That’s what I was trying to fucking show you!” she shouted. “What, did you think I had a _death_ wish, or s—”

The bathroom door flew open. Jester emerged.

“Shut up!” she yelled. “We’re trying to _concentrate_!”

“Jester!” Beau cried back, waving her hand around. “Jester, Jester, Nott just shot me!”

“She _asked_ me to, I don’t underst—”

There was a brief, blinding, flash of pale blue light. When it faded, the graze across Beau’s palm was knitting itself back together.

“Is that all?” Jester asked impatiently. “Because if it is, I need to get back to work. I’m giving Caleb a haircut.”

“Wait, you’re _what_?” Nott looked stricken. “Is he…wait, _what_?”

“I wanted to look neater,” Caleb explained, offscreen. His voice muffled by the bathroom wall. “Jester is helping. I think she is doing a good job.”

“We’ll be the judges of th—” Beau began, but instantly stopped when she caught Jester’s severe expression.

She gave her friend a very weak smile.

“You should get back to that,” she amended. “We’ll be quiet.”

“Promise,” Nott pitched in. “No more shooting, which wasn’t my fault, anyway.”

Jester rolled her eyes. “Good,” she huffed. “I can’t be distracted, this haircut could determine the fate of their _entire_ relationship!”

“Wait, wh—”

Caleb’s voice was cut off as the door slammed shut.

Nott and Beau turned back towards each other. There was a beat of silence. Then:

“Do it again,” Beau said. “But _gods,_ wait for my signal, okay?”

\--------------------------------------

When Molly emerged, with his arms outstretched and a dazzling smile across his face, his whole body seemed to radiate with a shining, ethereal glow. Then Yasha emerged from behind him and lowered the flashlight.

“Was that good?” she asked. “May I sit now?”

Molly bowed magnanimously. “Of course, dear! And thank you for all your help.”

Yasha moved to the bar and joined the rest of Team Molly’s Roommates. Meanwhile, Fjord and Caduceus were admiring their friend.

“That is… _killer,_ Mol,” Fjord whistled. “You really went all out, huh?”

“It’s real glittery,” Caduceus nodded approvingly. “Red is a good color on you.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Molly twirled for all to see. “You know, this is actually a show coat that I never got to wear. But it makes a decent blazer, and it’ll be nice to take it out for a spin, tonight.”

“You should button your blouse,” Yasha said, giving him a critical eye. “You are going to get cold.”

“Nope!” Molly beamed. “I’m doing it for the aesthetic. You understand, don’t you, sleeveless tank tops?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“The pants are…interestin’, though,” Fjord said, pointing doubtfully to Molly’s legs. “Is that, uh…are those normal colors, then?”

Molly winked. “Are they _ever_?”

“I think he looks charming,” Caduceus volunteered. “Nobody could ever take their eyes off of him.”

“Not like Caleb has that problem,” Fjord muttered. “Not like _anyone_ does.”

“The outfit is very you,” Yasha said. “Molly, you look wonderful.”

“Aw, thank you, that’s great to hear,” he chuckled. “Now, if it wasn’t for the feeling that my stomach’s about to crawl out my lungs, I think I’d be ready to go!”

\--------------------------------------

“But there is nothing to be nervous about!” Jester said, patting Caleb on the arm. “You are so fancy-looking, your breath is nice, the dinner will go super-well.”

“Plus your hair is top-notch,” Beau added. “Jes really _did_ do a good job.”

“ _Ja, ja_ , I know,” Caleb murmured, and ran a hand through freshly-shorn locks, “ _danke_ , really, Jester, for that, but…I cannot help but feel afraid for what is coming. How…how…gods, what will I _say_ to him? How am I supposed to apologize? It has been only _days_ since it happened, and weeks since we really last spoke to each other. I am…my friends, I am terrified to speak to him face-to-face.”

“Just do what I did,” Beau suggested. “Just shout at him until he starts to listen.”

\--------------------------------------

“I don’t think that’s the best plan,” Molly sighed. “For one, Caleb isn’t a baby deer.”

“But the method applies to all animals,” Caduceus pressed. “It doesn’t have to be a baby, either.”

Fjord sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cad, that…okay, nevermind. Look, Mol, you just gotta be _yourself_. Smile, tell some jokes, lighten the mood, but you _have_ to let him know what’s on your mind. No lying, no pretending, and _listen_ to him when he talks. You said last time that the problem was neither of you understood each other, right?”

“Right,” Molly nodded.

“Well, then, there you go!” Fjord said. “I can’t really speak for Caleb, here, but you gotta take that leap. Let him lead, even for just a bit, and then everything else will follow.”

\--------------------------------------

“But what if we never agree?” Caleb murmured. “What if we end up on opposing sides again?”

“So what?” Jester shrugged. “So what if that’s the case? It’s not your job to convince him you’re right, it’s just your job to listen. It’s not a _debate_ , silly, it’s love! It’s okay if you guys have opinions that don’t line up, and it’s okay to not totally understand his point of view. What you _do_ have to understand, is how he feels.”

\--------------------------------------

“But feelings is what got us into that mess in the first place,” Molly sighed. “He was feeling something that I didn’t know how to deal with. I thought I did, but I didn’t. What happens if I fuck up again?”

“Then you fuck up,” Yasha shrugged. “And that is that. But when the person is worth it, when keeping your love is _worth_ it, then in the end, things will…will…”

\--------------------------------------

“Well, alright, I won’t promise that it’ll turn out okay,” Nott admitted. “I don’t think anyone can. Sometimes…sometimes things happen, and sometimes the world is terrible, but…as cheesy as it sounds, I really do think it’s the things in your life that you love, that’ll see you through.”

\--------------------------------------

“And if you ever get lost, we are here,” Yasha added. “To guide you, or help you figure things out, we do our best.”

\--------------------------------------

“ _Always_ , Caleb, no matter what. That’s what friends are for, after all!”

\--------------------------------------

“And I know that you are worried, afraid things will not work out. But you have to understand, while that is certainly possible—"

\--------------------------------------

“—even when stuff gets in the way of what you want—”

\--------------------------------------

“—you just have to keep trying."

\--------------------------------------

"Hold on to your love."

\--------------------------------------

"Keep it close.”

\--------------------------------------

“Let it help you,” Nott murmured. “Focus on what you’re fighting for, remember everything that you’ve had, and think of what'll come."

\--------------------------------------

“No matter what happens, Molly, remember that. Remember how _good_ it feels to be in love. Remember why you cared in the first place.”

\--------------------------------------

Nott leaned back. She put her hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

“That’s it,” she said softly. “This is your new start. Do you think you can do it?”

\--------------------------------------

“Are you prepared now, Mollymauk?”

\--------------------------------------

Let’s try this one again.

Ready to see what the new year holds?

\--------------------------------------

Caleb took her hand.

\--------------------------------------

“Yes.”

\--------------------------------------

And then, it was a couple hours later.

All their friends had gone back home. Caduceus was busying himself in the kitchen, Nott found distraction in taking inventory of her collections. Beau and Yasha reunited in their apartment for dinner, Fjord and Jester turned on the television, and compared notes.

But all that was _really_ left to do, was to wait.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb arrived at the restaurant first. Clean as he’d ever been in his life, jacket properly hung up in the coatroom, shoes shined to perfection by a spell, heart fluttering nervous and excited, a small envelope containing two tickets tucked neatly into his pocket.

He took a seat at the maître d’s direction, near the back by the glistening balcony windows. Frost curled along crisp, shining panes, and the moonlight reflected soft against the candles.

The setup for a perfect evening. A night to remember.

He leaned back. He closed his eyes.

\--------------------------------------

There weren’t many cars left roaming the streets at this hour, nor this late into a wintry night. There was no snow, which was a mercy, but ice still clung to the pavement with a vengeance and cold racked the air with every slow breath. There were still a few months to go until spring, and for now there was little reason to venture outside.

Unless, of course, you happened to be a certain lavender tiefling, heading towards a certain, fateful event.

See him now, a skip in his step, anticipation in his eyes, as he emerges from the subway tunnels and clutches a scarf to his chin. See the warm puff of air escaping from his lips, see the faint glimmer of headphones tucked snugly into his ears.

He is listening to a song. Can you hear it? How’s it sound? It’s a melody spun altogether of his own, though when he first stared, he’d had help from his family. He’d never gotten to perform it on stage. He hopes, one day, that he’ll still have a chance.

Now watch him approach the intersection. He’s standing, heart beating, three blocks from the restaurant. The lights in the Triumph Chime seem brighter, seem lighter, an energy hums in the concrete below his feet. Watch his mouth quirk up into a grin. Feel the way his fingers twist nervously in their pockets.

Something will happen tonight, this he knows. What, exactly? Well, who could ever be sure?

He crosses the pavement with shoes crunching against frost. Whoever invented high heels probably never heard of snow. He thinks this would be a great opening line for the date. Something breezy, something fun.

He’d missed Caleb’s smile.

Of course…this also isn’t _really_ a date. It’s a…what again? Right, a meeting. Molly can’t help but bark a laugh at that. He is looking forward to it, no matter the name. All he needs, again, is for that happiness to return. All he wants, again, is for them to move on. Whatever comes of tonight would be alright, as long as they get to stay in each other’s lives.

He hopes that Caleb feels the same way. It’s all he’d ever hoped, since the moment they met.

Now see Molly cross the street. Two blocks away this time; he’s so close. The cold prickles against his cheeks, but tieflings run warm and right now he feels _alive_.

Yet he still pauses at that final crosswalk. The light is green, shining bright. The little figure on-screen has a hand raised like it’s waving. Like it’s saying, _It’s okay! Come across!_

Molly wonders if it really _is_ okay. He wonders if tonight will go as well as he prays. There is fear, and there is worry, and there is days and days of painful agony, still so fresh as to taste like iron on his tongue.

But beneath that, there is also something else. Words, spoken, thousands of them. Not promises, never something so empty. Instead…warmth. Understanding. Support, and above all else…

…love.

He chuckles faintly into the chill.

What a powerful thing, what a force, in the end. Even now, he realizes, he is walking towards Caleb. It’s all he’d ever done. Tonight, it feels right. Like the end of a dream. A few more steps to reality.

Somehow, it’s not as scary as you’d think.

His feet carry themselves onto pavement. The little waving man changes to a number, counting down.

See Molly breathe a laugh up to the stars.

“Right,” he says, “okay. Here we go.”

Then a blinding yellow light cuts jagged through the night.

Molly barely has a second to turn, barely a second to realize what’s going on. There’s a shape, barreling down, screeching hard against the street, there’s metal and there’s smoke and there’s fire in his lungs, the sidewalk now seems miles away on either side, the air stings cold, the ice like teeth, he has oil in his nose and tires grind against his chest, blood boils across his flesh and there’s a light, a blinding light, the bright yellow of the headlights, filling him, flooding him, all around him, swallowing whole—

In that moment, what does he think? How does he feel? What does he know?

They say your most precious memories flash through your mind before you die.

He sees a smile—


	34. Your Most Precious Memories, Pt. 2

Caleb Widogast stood alone in the night.

Somewhere, along the way, someone had handed him some champagne. Probably out of pity, because gods knew he needed it. Even the wait staff had felt too sorry to drag him in, which was why—at his insistence—they had left him outside, on the balcony.

He’d probably freeze to death out here alone. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He swung his arms over the railing and stared dejectedly into the skyline. Gleaming city lights shone far below.

“Why does it always turn out like this?” he mumbled. “Why does everything always go so bad? You think it will all be okay, and then  _bam_. Something happens to ruin everything.”

He took a drag from the glass flute, then hung his head.

“Of course, who can blame him, right?” he muttered darkly. “Remember, the whole heart-breaking part? He probably came to his senses at the last moment. Your friends are kind, but they are too nice to see the truth.”

Caleb drained the rest of his drink. He set the glass down on the ground by his shoes, freshly-shined.

“The end,” he sighed. “The end. Nothing left. Good try, Widogast, good try, but as it turns out, nothing was meant to b—”

From within his chest pocket, his cell phone buzzed. And then it buzzed again. And again, and again, frantic, urgent, desperate to be answered.

Caleb rolled his eyes. He fished around and pulled it free. He didn’t even look at the caller, just hit “answer.”

“Hello?” he grumbled. “What, what do you want?”

To his mild surprise, it was Jester who answered.

“Caleb?” she asked. “Caleb, is that you?”

“Ah!” He threw one of his hands into the air. “Ah, blueberry,  _hallo_! How are you? I am fine, except that I am not. He stood me up, have you heard? Molly is nowhere to be seen. And that is just as good, because—”

“ _Caleb!_ ” she snapped.

Something about her tone felt like ice, shattering fog. Suddenly, the haze around his eyes began to clear.

“Er…what?” He blinked. “What, what is it?”

There was a shaky breath on the other end of the line.

“You’ve got to come quick,” Jester murmured. “There’s…there’s no time to lose, Molly…Molly was…”

“What is it?” Caleb demanded. His blood seared white-hot through his veins. His heart choked on ash and terror. “Jester, what—what’s happened to him?”

“He…he…oh,  _Caleb_. Molly’s in the hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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>  Remember when I said I wasn't going to do the iron shepherds arc? I lied. But, hey! Hospital is a great first step, right?  
> On a completely other note, I hope y'all enjoyed reading, and I hope you aren't too mad at me <3 This chapter has been a loooooong time coming, almost about as long as the 25-28 update, so believe me when I say: OOF. In other news, the tag on happy endings is still 1000% confirmed and I promise I won't be doin' yall dirty. You can expect next update to pop up sometime next weekend, as I am studying away in china this semester (i know, it's insane, im terrified and excited) and my flight is tomorrow, plus a bunch of orientation stuff this weekend! I didn't want to leave you without an update before I left, though, so I made it probably one of the most painful ones of all time, because I love you.
> 
> I'll be kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) if you need me. <3<3<3<3
> 
> **ALSO![this chapter now has art!](https://nonsycamore.tumblr.com/post/182620830522/caleb-widogast-stood-alone-in-the-night) it was done by the absolutely incredible [nonsycamore over on tumblr](https://nonsycamore.tumblr.com). The amazing [@ravenspaladin](https://ravenspaladin.tumblr.com) also did [a GORGEOUS piece of the same scene, right over here too!!](https://ravenspaladin.tumblr.com/post/182665096043/caleb-widogast-stood-alone-in-the-night) Go and give them all your love! **


	35. Greater for Having Endured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day <3

_—likely that the_ _individual in question is none other than the leader of the notorious Iron Shepherds, the gang now confirmed to have been responsible for the recent string of kidnappings that plagued our fair city. Representatives from the Cobalt Soul have been called in to assist with questioning, and a number of mages are already working in conjunction with police to identify and locate the remaining missing persons. Those already found—including the thirteen individuals rescued from the wreck of the Shepherd’s moving truck—are currently being treated for injuries and traumatic shock at the Guided Hand Free Hospital. There is no word yet on the conditions of the two other gang members found on the scene, nor of the pedestrians wounded in the accident. This has been Cora Underbough, reporting for the Daily Crier from the King’s Hall. Stay tuned for more updates as—_

Detective Norda shut the TV off and turned toward the others.

“So that’s the long and short of it,” she said. “The Shepherds we’ve caught are being held here too, and their leader’s up on the third floor, under heavy guard. Apparently there’s something about him that isn’t entirely…human.”

“Not _human_?” Fjord echoed. “Like he’s an elf or a dwarf, or—”

Norda shook her head. “I’m told it’s more insidious than that. But the wizard we’ve got working with us says it shouldn’t be a problem. We’re quite good at suppressing magic, these days, and modern weapons can certainly hold their own against the arcane.”

“What about the people who were hurt?” Jester asked. “Are they okay? I-I know some medicine, do they need any help?”

“No, no, they’ll be alright.” Norda leaned back. “The doctors and clerics have been working nonstop since they arrived. Ren Sutan can be kind of a prick, but his team is the best in the empire.”

“And Molly?” Yasha asked. “Is… _he_ will be fine too, yes?”

Norda’s mouth folded into a thin line. “That’s...that’s not for me to say,” she muttered. “You’ll have to check in with the nurses when they get back.”

“You really can’t tell us _anything_?” Nott pressed. “The doctors barely answered any of our questions!”

Norda looked like she wanted to scowl, but under the circumstances she settled for another shrug.

“You lot already know more than most,” she said. “And that’s only because of your friend, here. On purpose or not, he saved over a dozen folks this evening, and he’s set us up to save the rest. You all should take comfort in his contribution to the city. That’s…that’s something you can honor.”

The tone of her voice, backlit by the faint pulsing of the monitor behind her head, felt rather like a church bell tolling in the twilight.

“ _You_ can honor him, by keeping him alive,” Yasha murmured. “All we ask is that you bring him back.”

“He was legally dead for two entire minutes,” Norda sighed. “It’s a miracle the clerics have managed this much. Just…just…don’t get your hopes up, okay? And don’t give me that look,” she added bitterly. “You think I haven’t watched squad-mates fall, before?”

“But isn’t that different?” Caduceus rumbled. “Didn’t _they_ at least know what they were getting into?”

Norda didn’t answer immediately. It looked like she was searching for something to say.

“You lot should get some rest,” she settled on eventually. “I’m heading out, someone else can come in. Six at a time. Let me…let me…call me, if anything changes.”

Then she walked across the room. Her fingers quivered against the handle.

The door closed behind her with a muted, gentle _click_.

\--------------------------------------

Out in the hallway, Beau was suffocating in silence.

Sure, of course, there was the subtle ambient patter of footsteps moving down polished tile, the gentle rustling of fabric as sheets and curtains were pulled back. The domed lights above them hummed low with every flicker, and a lone squeaky cart made its way slowly past their bench.

But the quiet that pounded heavy against their ears, the stillness that roared within both their minds, the fog of hush hanging thick above their heads, all of that together choked out the other sounds.

At least Beau was up and moving. She paced relentlessly back and forth along the room’s window, peering in with every pass at her friends gathered around the bed. They were all standing too closely together for anyone to see through, but that didn’t stop Beau from desperately trying to get a glance. Every once in a while she’d sigh loudly, shift her shoulders, bounce up and down on the balls of her feet and stretch her arms up as far as she could above her head.  

And every once in a while, she’d throw a worried look over to Caleb.

In the minutes since he’d arrived, he’d just stared at the closed door, then resigned himself to waiting on the bench outside the room. To Beau, it looked almost like he’d retreated completely inwards, pressed his elbows against his knees and buried his head into his hands. Occasionally, his shoulders would give a soft shake. And then he would seize up again, return to his frozen vigil.

Beau wondered if there was anything she should say to him. She wondered if there was anything she could do.  _She_ was the one here, after all, because she’d promised Nott that she’d take care of her boy. To her amazement, the little goblin had only nodded, patted her on the hand and gone in to watch the others. 

She didn’t want to let Nott down. She didn’t want to let _either_ of them down. Though, she was starting to think that she might.

Thankfully, only a couple seconds later, reprieve came as the doorknob turned and Detective Norda emerged from Room 226. Their eyes met, and she gave Beau a short nod.

“Go on, then,” she said, gesturing inside. “One more of you can enter.”

Then the door creaked open just a bit farther, and a tangled head of pink hair appeared above them.

It belonged to Caduceus. He was smiling in a way that was almost pitiful.

“Both of you,” he murmured. “Come on. I’ll wait outside.”

Beau immediately glanced over to Caleb. His head had shot up, his eyes wide and alert.

His fingers trembled. It looked like he wanted to speak, but couldn’t.

Without even hesitating, Beau walked over and gently took him by the hand.

“Alright, alright, I got it. C’mere. You can lean on me.”

His body fell heavy when it collapsed into her side. But after a fair bit of shuffling and only some faint swears, Beau eventually managed to shoulder both their weight.

There was a lot she’d do, if it was to help her family.

At this point, Norda had already left the hall. But Caduceus was still there, leaning against the doorframe.

“Be…be prepared,” he whispered, almost inaudibly to Beau. “It’s not…it’s not the worst, but it’s not pretty, either.”

“It’s Molly,” she replied instantly. Her teeth were hard and clenched. “Pretty isn’t the word I’d use.”

Caduceus just gave her a knowing nod. “See you later, then,” he said. “I’ll just be waiting out here.”

“Alright. Suit yourself.”

And then, with that, they entered the room.

The door leading in was made of heavy plastic, painted over with a soft, pale blue. The large glass viewing window was positioned by its side, a thick turquoise curtain pulled back to let in sight. The floors were lined with bland, beige tile, and the ceiling met the wall in a thick stripe of blue.

Monitors lined the periphery of this scene, dusty silver with mostly-dim screens. A few occasionally would emit a faint hum, that pulsed through the quiet like a low, rippling chime. There were a few chairs placed strategically around the room, and the counter to the left sported a wide TV.

There was also a wooden dresser here, too. It already held a small ceramic vase. Filled to the brim with freshly-cut flowers. Their petals were small, and rounded, and short; they looked a bit like the wildflowers that grew by forest paths.   

There was also a bed in here. It wasn’t empty.

The Mighty Nein glanced up when Beau and Caleb approached. Jester’s face was completely streaked with tears, Fjord looked like he was doing his best to stay calm. Yasha’s eyes were carefully blank of all expression, Nott’s lips were drawn into a thin line, gaze unsteady.

They came to a stop just inches from the rest. For a second, none of their friends dared to move. And then, as one, they parted, let them through.  

Mollymauk Tealeaf lay motionless on the mattress. There was gauze stretched thin across his entire right arm. His left leg dangled up in the air against a sling. Various bandaged wounds laced across his chest, and his eyes were closed, his cheeks deathly pale.

But somehow, the strangest sight of all was his clothing. At some point after the ambulance had brought him back, his bright shirt and brilliant trousers, glittering jewelry and technicolor coat, even his makeup and the charms clasped around his horns, had been replaced with a hospital gown.

Seeing him now—clothed like this, absent of all his usual shine—felt fundamentally wrong. Every glance, every sight, every blink of the eye, felt like the gravest invasion of his most vulnerable state. Defenseless and exposed to the harsh truths of reality. The only color left was in that ostentatious tattoo, the feather that curled along his neck. But even that, in this moment, at this point, as they all watched, felt more like a desperate distraction, than anything else.

Beau clenched her fist. She lowered her gaze. Looking at Molly now, was like seeing a stranger where a brother should have been.

She let out a faint breath. It was warm, in the cool hospital air.

“You…you… _gods_ ,” she trembled. “You…motherfucker, don’t you _dare_ quit on me.”

Molly didn’t respond. He barely moved.

And in the tense silence that followed, punctuated only by the buzzing of the machines, the Mighty Nein just stared at Molly. Drank in the lines of his face. Remembered the showy movements of his body. The twirling, the spinning, the bright, laughing smiles; they remembered the way he’d shone through any darkness, they way his voice could sing warm through any night.

Occasionally, one of them would reach out. They’d try to find the words, and then forget how.

At least Molly was still breathing. At least his chest continued to rise. It was slow, and drawn-out, like it was fighting against gravity, but still, that was better than nothing.

The doctors, in their rush, hadn’t really explained much. Possible coma, one of them had said. Let’s see if he wakes, the other had agreed. There’s no point in jumping the gun. We just need to wait and see. I'm sure it really won't be too bad.

At least it was still better than what they all knew could have happened.

Eventually, Jester spoke:

“Do you think it hurt?” she asked softly. “Do you think…do you think he’s in pain?”

They studied Molly’s face. They took a second to consider this.

“It doesn’t…it doesn’t look like he’s hurtin’,” Fjord tried. “Really, it’s almost like he’s asleep.”

They let that sink in. They waited a few beats.

Then Nott raised her hand. “Do you think he’s dreaming?” she asked. “Do you think it’s a good dream?”

Beau crossed her arms and leaned back. “It had better _not_ be,” she huffed. “It’s not fair, making us worry while he’s havin’ the time of his life in there.”

“He probably deserves it, though,” Jester objected. “I’d want to dream good if I died.”

“Technically, he wasn’t _dead_ ,” Fjord said. “At least, not long enough for it to be a problem.”

“Well that sucks,” Beau said. “Imagine how _cool_ it would be if I could say I went to hell and back?”

Jester raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think you’re going to hell?”

“What makes you think you’re coming back?” Nott added.

Beau stuck her tongue out. And that, despite everything, was enough to make them all faintly smile.

And then, a few seconds later, Yasha spoke.

“I think…I think I will go outside,” she said.

They all turned towards her.

“What?” Jester asked. “Why?”

“What if he wakes up?” Beau added.

But Yasha still shook her head. “I just…I think I need a break,” she said. “Call me…call me selfish, but…gods, I cannot continue to see him motionless, like this. I do not…I will come back, but…I need a moment outside.”

She turned to the others, a faint glimmer in her eyes. “Is that terrible of me?” she murmured. “Is that something I should not do?”

“Hey, hey,” Beau said immediately, “hey, it’s alright, I can…fuck, I mean, if you need me to come with you, I can go outside too. It’s not like, uh, it’s not like he likes me, or anything. Maybe if I leave, he’ll wake up faster.”

Jester snorted. She punched Beau lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t say that, you know it isn’t true!”

“Yeah, well,” Beau shrugged. “Either way, Yasha. It’s okay to go out.”

“I, um…actually, I’ll come too,” Fjord said suddenly. “I’ll—yeah. I’ll join you out there.”

“Are you sure?” Jester tilted her head. “If Molly wakes u—”

Fjord’s expression was enough to give her pause. He gave a weak smile.

“I think…I kind of need this too,” he admitted. “I…I want to be there for him, but I…gods.” He chuckled, reached up to clear his eyes. “This is, um…it’s reminding me of something, and I, uh, I feel like…gods, I feel like I’m gonna…I’m not even _sure_ —”

To everyone’s surprise, it was Nott who intervened. She laid a hand gently on his arm.

“It’s okay,” she said simply. “Don’t worry. You can go.”

He looked down and met her gaze. That piercing yellow gaze was sharp as ever, but there was something behind them now, something soft, something wholly understanding, that spoke to Fjord in a way that nothing ever had, before.

It was strange, but for a moment, he almost wanted to call her m—

“Th-thanks,” he said softly. “I…appreciate that, Nott.”

She nodded. She gestured to the door with a faint smile.

Fjord turned back to Yasha. “Let’s stand by the window?” he suggested. “So we can still see inside?”

“Of course.”

Jester and Beau both glanced around quickly.

“We can come t—”

“Here, let me—”

They trailed off. Their gazes fell back to Molly.

“I just don’t want to leave him,” Jester mumbled. “What if he wakes up, and feels alone?”

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Beau agreed. “Nobody does.”

Nott nodded solemnly along. She raised a finger, opened her mouth to speak—

“Actually, I would like to ask you all to go.”

Her arm fell back to her side. She whirled around, with the others, to stare at Caleb.

His face had turned towards them. His eyes were wet, but resolute.

Fjord was the first to recover. He leaned in close and whispered, “Are you…are you sure, Caleb? Are…how are _you_ feeling?”

He seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he shrugged.

“Being completely honest, I do not know. But there is…there is something I need to do,” he muttered. “And I am afraid that I cannot, unless I am alone. With…with him.”

The gang exchanged glances. There were a few conflicted grimaces, some expressions of concern. But Yasha suddenly reached out, and put a hand against his shoulder.

“Tell us if anything happens,” she murmured. “We will just be outside, okay?”

Caleb nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

And then with one last glance back to her best friend, Yasha left to join Caduceus in the hall.

Fjord and Jester were the next to step out, patting Caleb on the back, giving Molly a few last words, before crossing the room and walking through the door.

This left Nott, Beau, and Caleb, standing together in the silence.

Beau said, “Are you sure you’re gonna be alright?”

Nott said, “We can stay, in case you need anything.”

Caleb shook his head.

“I have to be alone,” he repeated. “I…I cannot do this, unless I am.”

All of them had tears streaked across their faces. To say that one had cried the most would be an insult to them all.

“Okay then,” Nott murmured. “Okay.” She took Beau by the hand. “Come on then,” she said softly. “Let’s…let’s…come on.”

\--------------------------------------

The air around them was still. Sanitized. Smelled slightly like tropical air freshener, with a hint of desperation.

He sat in the chair at the side of Molly’s bed. There was a monitor by his head, pulsing slow, singing soft, glowing a gentle pale blue in the darkness. Every once in a while, from across the room, the midnight breeze would slip in past a window and ruffle the curtains hanging low along its frame.

There was a strange sanctity to this place. A purity to this grief. A horror to this divinity.

And like a man in the twilight praying to a god he’d never know, Caleb Widogast bowed his head.

He closed his eyes.

“M…Molly…I know you cannot hear me,” he sighed. “Part of me fears that now is too late. But…I am selfish, I have always been selfish, in that no matter what will happen and no matter what comes next, all I want for now, is to say this.”

He took a long, low, shaky breath.

“I am so, _so_ sorry.”

His lungs rattled. His heart moaned.

“I was…I was terrible,” he murmured. “I was awful, to you. But not because of the reasons I first thought. Because, instead…instead…”

He gripped the edge of the bed with his hands.

“I had thought I was irredeemable. In my past, I was taught that the way forward, the way to protect everything I loved, was to weed out and crush those who would threaten my home. I was taught to punish without mercy, and to strike without care. And I was good at what I did. _Very_ good. So good, that I never gave a second thought to what I was doing.”

He sighed.

“But then my teacher told me that my parents were traitors. That they would conspire against peace. That I had a duty. To…to prevent that. To, ah, to finish them. And I…I did.”

He bit his lip.

“I broke, after that. I realized what I had done. And when I escaped the prison I ended up in, I spent years trying everything I could to reverse that. I wanted…more than anything, I wanted to go back and fix the greatest mistake of my life. Because I knew that the person I had become, the person I thought I was today, that person…well, that person was terrible. Was _disgusting_. Was nothing that could ever be loved, or show love, or deserve love. Later on, I when I realized my efforts were futile, I…I thought perhaps that I would die as that person. That perhaps the legacy of guilt, and terror, and murder, and cruelty, was one that I would carry to my grave.”

Through the tears, he gave a faint chuckle.

“I cannot say that you changed things, Molly, because you are not the only one who did. It was…well, it began with Nott. When I told you that we met because she broke into my apartment, that was only half of the fact. When I told you that we met because she climbed in through an open window, that was also partially a lie. In truth…in truth, she had been climbing around the fire escapes, and had heard a sound coming from my home. I was…I was crying, Molly. Because I was tired of what I had become, and I was lost in what I was trying to do, and I did not know where to go from there. At least…that is what I had thought, until now.

“If I am being honest, Mister Mollymauk, I think…I think the real reason why I was crying, why I was so ruined, was simply because I missed my family. My old friends. I…I had never been alone, before, I had never known what it was like to be unloved. And I _thought_ it was what I deserved, and I _thought_ it was what I needed, but…in truth, I think what I really needed…was a friend. Nott gave me that kindness. Then a few years later, so did Jester. And then Beau, and then Yasha, and even Fjord and Caduceus and…and you.”

He sighed a faint smile.

“I would not say you redeemed me, Molly. I would not say that you saved me. That would not be fair to the rest. But…but you did do something, something very important. You showed me the truth. You gave me your heart. But back then, back on that balcony, I was so lost, and so confused, and so wrapped up in my _own_ problems, that all I did was laugh at you. I scorned the most vulnerable thing a person could ever share with me. I will never forgive myself for that. And…and I cannot tell you anything else, except that I am sorry. More…more sorry than I have ever been in my life. You tried to tell me that I was not terrible, and you were right in that I think, perhaps, fundamentally, I am not. Not anymore. But…but I still did a terrible thing. I still hurt…I still hurt you.”

He bowed his head. He seemed to hesitate.

And then he slipped his hand into Molly’s. He laid his thumb against warm skin, felt their palms gently align in the quiet.

“In that moment, I was not myself. Not the version, at least, that you had grown to be in love with. And I will never, in my life, leave behind that regret. The person I had become, the one you _helped_ me become, knows today that there were so _many_ things I should have done. I should have listened to your words. I should have thanked you for your heart. I should have pleaded to hear your thoughts. I should have…I should have…I should…”

He took a long, flowing, deepening breath.

“I should have told you how happy you’ve made me. I should have told you how deeply I care. I should have admitted I was just hiding in my past, and I should have confessed I was scared of moving on. But most of all, Mollymauk, most of all, I should have told you that the reason why I had finally decided to change in the first place, the reason why I ever wanted to get better, the reason why I would do anything now to see your smile, was because, in the end, I just wanted to be worthy of you. I wanted to live a life you deserved. I wanted to earn a future we could share together. And that is because…because…because…”

He felt the words slip freely through the air.

“Because I love you, Mollymauk Tealeaf. I think…I think a part of me always has. I just needed the time to realize. And…and I know that things have changed, but…I think…I _hope_ , that maybe you can still love me too. There is…Molly, if you have taught me anything, it is that we are allowed to dream. We are allowed to move on. And no matter what happened in the past, no matter what things we run from, or secrets we bury, _today_ is something we will always have. I want…I want _this_ to be that day. I want _now_ to be that moment. I want…all I have _ever_ wanted, is the chance to move on, to take that leap, with you. To wherever we may go. To whatever might come next. It would…truly, it would be all be alright, at your side.”

Caleb felt his voice fading into the night. He looked down, back to the bed, saw the quiet face lying before him. Unmoving, and unspeaking, silence where before had been a laugh, or a smile.

He lowered his forehead onto the mattress. Framed in the dim light, as if he were praying.

“I believe this is the part where you wake,” he murmured. “This is the scene where your voice cuts through my dread. When you are supposed to reach out, and touch my cheek? That is…that is what happens in all the movies, yes? They cannot have been lies. Not when we are this close.”

He squeezed the hand grasped limply in his own.

“Please. Please, come back,” he whispered. “Wake up. Please, Molly, I…I don’t know what to do without you.”

And in the silence that followed, both of them were still.

For some reason, there was something inexplicably funny about that. Caleb could feel a laugh burbling thick in his lungs.

And when his quiet breaths burst out into gasps, when his sobs burned like acid against his throat, when his lips ran ragged and tears cascaded down his face, when his shoulders wouldn’t stop shaking and his heart thrashed in his chest, as he collapsed out of his chair and threw himself against the bed, pressed his face into the blanket by the side of Molly’s leg, Caleb Widogast just cried, just broke, just howled wordlessly into the sweet, uncaring face of sorrowed grief.

And from above the shreds of his scattered breathing came the sound of a swiftly opening door. Footsteps ran across the room towards him, darted frantically against the tile until Nott the Brave returned to his side, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her forehead to his cheek.

For a while, they didn’t speak. Though to be fair, they didn’t need to.

Eventually, Caleb managed to get a grip. He took a final, shaky breath, and shifted back from her embrace.

“Th-thank you,” he whispered quietly. “Thank…thank you, Nott.”

“It’s okay,” she nodded back. “I got it. I got you.”

The rest of the Mighty Nein now also stood behind them. Except for Caduceus, who was still waiting outside. But the others, the rest of them, his friends and family, the original group, were all gathered together again at Molly’s side. And through the lingering haze of the last tears hanging from his eyes, Caleb looked up, and gazed into all their faces.

It was strange, in a way. Nobody was saying anything, but the air already seemed a little warmer. A little softer. A bit familiar.

And for Caleb, kneeling, no longer alone on the cold tile, there was something about this that felt like coming home.

Eventually, he trusted himself enough to move. Jester and Yasha stepped forward to help him up.

Then they all turned back to Molly. His faint breathing came and went, ebbed slowly out like a quiet tide.

There was a pause. Then:

 “You know what’s ironic?” Beau asked. “You know what’s sort of nice, about this?”

“What?” Fjord asked.

She gestured around the room. “There’s just so many of us in here. Waiting for him to get up. And, well, you know. Last time, he was alone.”

They considered this.

“He’s probably a lot cleaner than before, too,” Jester said eventually. “Like, didn’t he crawl out of the dirt, last time?”

“In the forest,” Yasha nodded. “Gustav said there were leaves in his hair.”

Jester, despite the mood, still managed to giggle. “What, _really_?” she asked. “Like a druid, or something?”

“More like a compost heap,” Beau snorted. “That would suit him better, anyway.”

“I hope he got to shower afterwards,” Fjord mused. “I can’t _imagine_ walkin’ around like that.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nott pitched in, “forest smells can be nice. Like…musky, and sexy.”

This was met with silence. Then Beau just shook her head.

“Man, I hope he wasn’t covered in worms,” Jester said, when the gang had sufficiently recovered. “That would be _so_ uncomfortable.”

“It is,” Caleb agreed, caught up in the force of his friends’ speculation. “I can confirm that it truly sucks.”

“There were probably centipedes,” Fjord said solemnly. “They always are, no matter where you go.”

“Ew, do you think any tried to crawl up his _butt_?” Jester asked, to a chorus of instant groaning. “I’m just saying! It would be really, _really_ uncomfortable, but if you’re stuck under the _dirt_ and stuff, there’s gotta be bugs everywhere!”

“He must have been wearing pants,” Yasha frowned. “Would that not stop them?”

“Not unless they were made of fuckin’ steel,” Beau said. “Crawlers get _everywhere_ , no matter how hard you try.”

“Do you think they’re still _there_?” Nott asked. “I mean, how does that even—"

“For your information, dear, there aren’t any insects in my nether regions. Not that I can remember, anyways.”

They all froze.

There was a pause, short and sharp. Electric with surprise and realization like the dawn.

And then, as one, their gazes turned toward the bed.

Mollymauk Tealeaf had pulled himself upright, was now leaning with his upper-back against the headboard. A thin streak of gauze poked out from under his hair. His smile was slightly pained, but certainly rife with mischief.

“You lot really are noisy,” he said cheekily. “And gods, have I missed something? You look like you’ve been crying!”

\--------------------------------------

What does lightning feel like, when it just misses your heart? What does water feel like, when you’re yanked up from near-drowning? What is relief, and what is celebration, and what is love greater for having endured? What delight shines through your family by your side? What are their tears, and their embraces, and their laughter warm in the night?

And for seven, in that second, in that moment, in particular, what had it felt like when Molly had come home?

\--------------------------------------

“You _dick_ ,” said Beau, through tears of pure joy. “Don’t you _ever_ fucking do that again. Fuck—seriously, _fuck_ you.”

“Ha! It’s good to be back,” Molly chuckled. “Nice to see that nothing’s changed while I was gone.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” Fjord said. “But, ah, yeah. Nice to have you back, Mol.”

Yasha put a hand on his uninjured shoulder. He glanced up, and grinned weakly at her expression.

“I know, I know,” he said before she could speak. “Sorry, dear.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she rolled her eyes. “Just be careful, next time.”

“You did really give us quite a scare,” said a soft rumble from someone unseen. The gang all whipped around in alarm, only to see a box of tissues floating about six feet into the air.

“C…Caduceus?” Jester tried. “Is…is that _you_?”

The tissues shook up and down. “It’s me,” they confirmed. “I came in when I saw you all cheering. But the hospital only lets in six at once, so I turned invisible so we wouldn’t get in trouble.”

This was met with considerable contemplation. Fjord reached out, and prodded the air next to the box.

“Ow,” said Caduceus. “That was my arm.”

“Oh!” Nott suddenly clapped her hands together. “Hang on, Mister Clay, hang on, you’d know best! Do centipedes ever crawl into the butts of dead bodies?”

There was another pause following that. Much shorter, this time, but certainly more profound.

“Is there…is there a _reason_ why you’re askin’?”

“Science,” said Jester.

“In case it happened to Molly,” said Beau. “It’s a long story, right, but basically we were wondering if, when a body was underground, there would be a lot of bugs and stuff that would try to—”

And as she explained the rest, as the group looked on in parts-fascination, parts-horror, as Caduceus’s tissues nodded and began to deliver a truly horrifically detailed response, from all the way down against the bed, Caleb suddenly felt a hand squeezing his.

He glanced down. Then his face flushed, when he realized it belonged to Molly. That somewhere, along the way, their fingers had touched again.

But the lavender tiefling didn’t seem to mind. He raised his eyebrows, and looked around at their friends.

“They certainly are something, eh?”

Caleb felt his shock begin to soften. “ _Ja_ , truly,” he chuckled, “they are…we have strange friends.”

Molly gave a laugh. “I hope they never change,” he nodded. Then, very slowly, he reached out with his other hand. He brought his palm to rest against Caleb’s.

“For, ah…for the record,” he said quietly, “I… _am_ a little pissed at you. But, um…but I also heard what you said. All—all of it. And…I’m back, now. I’m here. And maybe after I get out of this hideous hospital gown, and the doctors let me out of here, maybe…maybe we could try this again? I…yeah. I heard what you said, dear. I’d…I’d like to move on, too. With…with you. If, ah, if that sounds okay?”

He flashed that grin. A little weak, a little nervous, but so bright, as always, and so full of life.

Caleb’s heart swelled in his chest. He felt like his soul might fly.

He crouched down. He leaned in close.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Molly’s grin went wide.

“Hey, Mister Caleb?”

“Yes? Is something the matter?"

"Oh, no, not at all. It's just nice to see you smile."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? _See??_ I TOLD you I wouldn't do y'all dirty like that! I promised a happy ending, and by FUCK are we gonna get it. Also, updating on holidays is becoming a trend that i very much enjoy. That being said, as I am sure you guys can also tell, the chapter count is winding down prettyyyyyyy soon towards the end. And I know you all know that means we're getting close, to the very last moments I have to share with you. I hope, truly hope, that you all have enjoyed this story, and if you'll bear with me a little longer, there's just a few things left to experience together.
> 
> As always, as always, comments and kudos keep me going, and you guys's incredible amazing comments and feedback absolutely haven't gone unread!! I really really appreciate all of your well wishes for my hectic semester, and I'm slowly working through to respond once again to you all!! In the meantime, I'll be kickin' on tumblr as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) if you need me. <3<3<3<3
> 
>  
> 
> **UPDATE:[THIS CHAPTER NOW HAS ART!!!](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/post/182837244831/hey-i-was-crushed-sockablock-how-dare-you-read) it was done by the absolutely incredible @sameshork over on tumblr, and it makes my heart fill with joy to see it ahjgdkahsfj**


	36. Oder der Triumph der Unvergängliche Liebe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: important conversations, the grand reunion, balcony redux #3, a word count that got completely out of hand

There is only so much that magic can do, especially when the human (or tiefling) body is concerned.

Magic itself, after all, has always walked the narrow precipice between reality and a creative mind. It can do amazing, fantastical things, and in the hands of history’s most skilled practitioners, it has built cities, crossed the planes, turned frogs into dragons and wyverns into snakes, has shattered whole mountains and leveled forests into plains.

But, of course, there is still a limit. The flesh can only handle so much interference, and excessive amounts of magical energy could always attract unwanted attention.

Which was why, two days later, Mollymauk Tealeaf was still in the hospital. On the night of the incident, after the mages and clerics had finished mending his injuries and sustaining his soul _just_ long enough for it to resist the call of the Astral Plane, he had been handed over into the trusted care of the doctors and physicians. From there, they’d set upon realigning his bones, sewing up the less fatal wounds, and counseling him through the rest of the healing process.

Today, he was seated upright in bed. His leg was down from its suspended sling, and his right arm had been freed completely of the gauze. The nurses had told him he was allowed to move around, but under no circumstances should he overexert himself. He was still injured, after all, and they wanted to ensure that he’d make a full recovery.

“I might have even gotten some special treatment,” Molly added cheekily. “Apparently, Norda told everyone she could about how I got here. Er…about _exactly_ how I got here.”

“Gods, is _that_ why your room is like this?” Beau gestured around with her arms, indicated the dozens upon dozens of bouquets of flowers, boxes of chocolates, myriad greeting cards and even the baskets of fruit that decorated every flat surface within sight. “I mean, it’s a good thing I’m not allergic to pollen,” she grunted. “Otherwise, I literally never would’ve come to see you.”

Molly laughed, and only winced faintly when he moved. “Well, actually, one of these gifts is from our little friend.” He pointed to the bedside table, which among other things housed a small crayon drawing of a misshapen purple smudge holding hands with an avian blob. “The Shusters stopped by to see me last night. Kiri gave it to me herself. Though, I’m told that most of this stuff is from complete strangers. Families of the victims, I think. I must really inspire love and adoration, eh?”

Beau’s answering groan suggested that this was probably the last thing he inspired. “Anyways,” she continued, with a roll of her eyes, “it’s, uh, it’s good to hear you’re doing well.”

Molly waved a dismissive hand. “I’m under the best care in the Empire. Don’t worry about me, how are _you_ doing? What’s the news? What’ve you been up to? I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in _ages_.”

“I was here, like, all of yesterday.”

“Even so,” he sighed dramatically. “That was _yesterday._ What’s happening _now_?”

“We- _ell_ ,” Beau raised a hand and started counting their friends off on her fingers. “It’s Tuesday, which means Jes and Fjord have class. Yasha’s moving boxes at the docks; she said she’d be done by lunchtime. Don’t ask me what Nott’s up to, I literally never know. Cad, I think, is on shift at the Feather, and Caleb’s got tutoring until late. He says he’s sorry he can’t come earlier, by the way.”

“ _He_ was also here yesterday,” Molly chuckled. “The poor man probably needs a break.”

“Oh, sure,” Beau rolled her eyes. “Like he could ever get enough of you.”

Molly actually had the audacity to look surprised. “What?” he asked. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“What am _I_ talking about?” Beau crossed her arms. “You _dumbass_ , didn’t Caleb confess to you yesterday? Er, no, Sunday,” she corrected hastily. “Anyways, I know for a fact that he did, because Jester made him tell us what happened the second we all left your room. Plus, we watched his confession through the window. You guys really need to stop having all your important talks out in the open, like that.”

Molly scowled, though only halfheartedly. “I think I was unconscious at the time, dear. I really didn’t have much of a say.”

“Sure, sure, whatever makes you feel better. Now come _on,_ spill!” She leaned forwards in her chair. “Are you guys dating now, or _what_?”

Molly grinned. “You almost sound _invested_ in this. Has Beauregard caught the gossip-bug?”

“Hey, fuck off, I’m literally a monk. That deals in secrets. My _job_ is gossip-bugging. And, uh, Jester wants to know.”

“You should tell her to come ask herself,” he laughed. “And make her bring me more pastries. This hospital food here _sucks_.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s good for you.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t care.”

Beau very gently punched him in the shoulder. “If I ask her to do that, will you tell me what’s going on? _Are_ you and Caleb together, now?”

For a moment, Molly seemed like he was going to keep stalling. But then he finally just sighed, and shrugged as best as he could.

“I’m being perfectly honest, dear? I don’t know. Ah—” He held up a finger to prevent Beau from interrupting. “Look, it’s like this, alright? Caleb and I both know…we both know how the other feels. We both know that there’s…things to address. But—and don’t ask me to try and explain this—it doesn’t feel like the right time for that, yet. I mean, gods, I’m stuck in a hospital bed and I haven’t worn jewelry in days. It’s just…I know we’ll talk about it soon. Just not…not yet.”

He trailed off, his gaze falling to his hands in his lap. “That’s really it, dear. Any questions?”

To his utter surprise, Beau just shook her head. “Nah. I get it.”

He blinked. He leaned back. “What? _Really_?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, _really_ , you dick. I get it. It makes sense. There’s a right time for everything, yours’ll come when it does.”

Molly just stared at her. After a few seconds, he got the distinct impression that Beau was smirking, and that his jaw had fallen to the ground. He hastily picked it up, then smacked her on the shoulder.

She let him. She _was_ trying to be nice, after all.

“When did you get so wise?” he asked accusingly. “Have you been reading advice columns, or something?”

Beau tilted her chair back and kicked her feet up onto the edge of Molly’s bed. “I don’t need advice columns when I hang out with Jester,” she shrugged. “I’m basically a repository for wisdom. Ask me anything, and you’ll get your answer.”

“Anything, eh?”

“Anything at all,” she grinned. “What is your question, o Annoying Purple Bastard?”

Molly shot her a brilliant smile. He leaned across the sheets, and smacked his hand against her toes.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?”

\--------------------------------------

Beau left about an hour later, finally fed up with Molly’s existence (her words, likely not the truth). She did promise, however, that she’d return the next day, and that later on, Jester and Fjord would stop by. Her words rang true around mid-afternoon, when the pair showed up with Yasha, Caduceus, Nott, and a sackful of board games in tow.

They spent the next few hours tearing through Monopoly, then Scrabble, then even attempted to play Twister before a nurse came in and demanded that they “knock it off, unless you want him to stay here another week.” After that, they switched to the Game of Life, and the rest of the visit featured Jester entering a polyamorous relationship with Caduceus and Yasha, Fjord losing his foot in a construction accident, and Molly being granted an international peace prize which Nott referred to as “the loser’s award.”

But, of course, eventually their time together drew to a close, and as afternoon dipped into evening, the gang had to return home. They packed up the small game pieces scattered across the floor, and with a cheery goodbye, and a “see you later,” Molly was left alone by himself, again.

Which, of course, wasn’t actually a bad thing. If only for one reason in particular.

\--------------------------------------

Caleb Widogast practically glowed when he entered. He closed the door behind him with a faint _click._

His cheeks were pink from the chill outside, and he carried a canvas bag over his shoulder.

Molly had a feeling he knew what was inside. His smile grew even wider as Caleb approached the bed.

“My dear librarian has come to visit me again! What have you brought to read to me, today?”

Caleb chuckled and sat down in his usual chair. “Actually,” he said, “before I start reading, I have something to show you. Something I think you will find quite familiar.”

“Really, now?” Molly raised an amused eyebrow. “Well, color me curious. But if it’s inappropriate, I don’t think the staff would approve.” Then he leaned in and winked, “Though _I_ certainly won’t snitch.”

Caleb shook his head with a laugh. “No, no, nothing of that sort. Here,” he produced a small white envelope from his coat. “This is actually what I was referring to.”

Molly watched him pull open the flap and produce two small slips of paper. They were handed over, and his face instantly went pale.

“Oh, fuck, gods _above_ , what are you doing?!” He quickly shoved the tickets back into Caleb’s hands. “Fuck, it’s still early, dear, you can still make it if you catch the L Train. The show doesn’t start until 7, right? I’m sure if you hurried, you would make it!”

“But why would I want to?” Caleb asked softly. “I am here to be with you.”

Molly felt various parts of his brain shutting down. Still, he made an effort to plow through.

“You’ve already visited me many times already, dear. You should take some time for yourself.” He flicked the tickets with a finger. “Don’t let this opportunity go to waste!”

Caleb didn’t respond right away, instead took a moment to trace the writing on the vouchers. Then he glanced up, and gave Molly a faint smile. “You know,” he murmured, “I do not think I ever thanked you properly for this gift. If I remember correctly, I was rather…absent, at the time.”

“It’s fine,” Molly shrugged. “I know you had a good reason.”

“Still,” Caleb insisted. “It was unfair to you, Mollymauk. This is one of the most heartfelt gifts I have ever received in my _life._ It is…it is an _incredible_ thing, Molly. Especially since I know it was all for me. Especially since I know you do not even speak Zemnian.”

“I don’t need to, to appreciate a good show. Besides, I also looked it up,” Molly grinned. “Leonore is a pretty interesting woman, isn’t she?”

“Florestan is very lucky,” Caleb agreed. “It is only a shame we did not get to see them perform.”

“You still can,” Molly reminded him. “I won’t ever stop you from going.”

Caleb shook his head. He leaned forwards, and set the tickets down onto the bedside table.

“I would not dream of going without you, Mister Mollymauk. Not to something this important. Not to something that we could share together. And in another life,” he murmured, “perhaps the two of us would be making our way to the theater, now. I am wearing the jacket that I always wear, and you are dressed up like a peacock—”

“Hanging off your arm?”

Caleb chuckled. “I prefer to think it would be _me_ doing the hanging.”

“Right, right, of course!” Molly laughed. “As it should be. Tell me, Mister Caleb, what would come next?”

“Next,” Caleb nodded, “we would make our way into the opera hall. There would be a red, plush carpet beneath our feet. A bright glowing chandelier above our heads. I would hand our tickets over to the usher, and we would be escorted to seats, right next to each other, with a marvelous view of the stage,” he smiled. “And then, just before the lights would dim, I would take up a small handful of salt, and I would sprinkle it over you.”

Molly blinked. He leaned back. “ _Salt_? Is…is that something they do in opera? Or in the fields? Some sort of tradition, or something?”

“Only when you need to translate something,” Caleb grinned. “It is a component for a spell called ‘Comprehend Languages.’ It took a bit of work, but I modified it slightly so that it would work on us both.”

He reached out and gave Molly a pat on the hand. “That was my plan, anyways. What do you think?”

Molly’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “I think…well, I think it sounds rather lovely. And very thought-out, and very kind on my behalf. I’m rather sorry now, dear, for ruining it.”

Caleb immediately shook his head. “Ruin?” he echoed. “Molly, you ruined nothing. Perhaps I am a little disappointed we cannot go, but the _real_ appeal, for me, was getting to share something beautiful with you.”

Caleb slowly reached for his bag. He lifted it onto his lap, and laid a hand inside.

“However, I would like to suggest an alternative. Care to hear it?”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “You’re being so very mysterious, today. I don’t really think that I have a choice.”

Caleb’s expression twinkled with amusement. “You’ll always have a choice with me.”

“Ha! Very smooth.” Molly gestured impatiently. “Well then, dear? Don’t keep me waiting any longer. I’ve already been waiting long enough, all day!”

Caleb laughed. He produced a thin paperback book, and held it up to the light for all to see.

“ _Leonore_ ,” he read. “ _Oder der Triumph der ehelichen Liebe_.”

Molly’s eyes instantly went wide. “Wait, but that’s—”

“I found it at the back of Bibelots, yesterday,” Caleb explained. “Oglen let me have it at a discount. And I know it’s not the same as being at the opera, and this is a play adaptation, so there won’t be any singing, but…I’m told the story is also rather good.”

“Mister Caleb,” Molly murmured, “how long did that take you to find?”

Caleb’s cheeks colored slightly. “That’s, ah, that’s not really impor—”

“ _Mister_ Caleb.”

“Five hours,” he admitted. “I almost gave up during hour four, but I was _sure_ that if anywhere would have a copy, it would be there. And…my efforts _did_ pay off, eventually.”

“Not yet, they haven’t.” Molly grinned and crossed his arms. “Not until we’ve finished the book, anyways.”

“Ah, but wait a moment,” Caleb raised a finger. He reached into one of his pockets and produced a small Ziploc bag. At its bottom was a fine dusting of grainy powder.

“We cannot forget this part, eh?”

“Ha!” Molly nodded along, “of course. You know, I think this is the part where I say something clever about how when we’re together, it feels like magic.”

“How about this?” Caleb held up a pinch of salt. “ _Zeit mit dir zu verbringen, ist magisch_?”

Molly raised an eyebrow, but his smile never left. “You should still cast your spell, just in case, but I don’t think I needed any help understanding that one.”

“Some things just transcend language, _ja_?”

Both of them felt it when the enchantment took hold. It was rather like suddenly being able to see clearly, if the seeing was through your soul, based on music from your heart.

“ _Fancy_ ,” Molly quipped in Infernal. “ _Can you understand me?_ ”

“ _After everything?_ ” Caleb grinned. “ _I think so, yes._ ”

Molly’s eyes glimmered. “Then by all mean, dear. Take it away.”

Caleb gently nudged the cover open. He leaned forwards in his chair.

The words slipped out slowly from between his lips, the syllables spinning warm through the air. And as the play began and the characters came to life, as Molly listened, enraptured, to the lilt of Caleb’s song, as his smooth voice ran and faded softly into the night, the clock on the wall behind them spun too, moved forwards, tiptoed quietly into the future and carried the moment on, along with it.

And they didn’t talk about the confession. They didn’t ask each other what they were. They barely even touched upon what they had suffered, what they had gained.

Instead, for now, as one of them healed, the other remembered. They slowly, together, let their lives regain color.

Besides. At the moment, it wasn’t important for them to be anything.

It was just important for them to _be_.

\--------------------------------------

On the 14th of Horisal, the second Friday of the new year, the doctors finally deemed Molly recovered enough to go home. They gave him a—if not clean, then at least only mildly scruffy—bill of health, and told him to get someone to pick him up around two.

\--------------------------------------

**TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**

Today | 1:28PM

Mollymauk Tealeaf started a video call.

Mollymauk Tealeaf ended the call.

 **Lavender Thunder:** wait, wait, the reception in this stupid hospital sucks  
**Lavender Thunder:** hang on, let me go on data

Mollymauk Tealeaf started a video call.

Yasha joined the call.  
Beauregard joined the call.  
Caduceus Clay joined the call.  
Jester Lavore joined the call.

 **Seaman:** we’re LITERALLY in class

Jester Lavore left the call.

 **(** **ﾉ** **◕** **ヮ** **◕)** **ﾉ*:** ლ(ಠ益ಠლ)

Nott the Brave joined the call.  
Caleb Widogast joined the call.

\--------------------------------------

It was finally arranged, after a quite a lot of screaming, arguing, and general all-around tomfoolery, that since Caduceus was Molly’s roommate and owned a car, he should be the one to pick him up. The fact that said car was a Volkswagen fashioned into a hearse was only a side detail, and anyways it had made Molly want to choose Cad even _more._

The matter of the afterparty, however, was left—as always—to Jester.

\--------------------------------------

“Welcome, welcome, one and all, to the ‘Hurray You’re Not Dead’ celebration extravaganza! Come on in, come on in, and make yourselves at home! Well, okay, this is technically _your_ house, Molly, but just let me play host for now, okay?”

Molly, supported on one side by Yasha and the other by Caduceus, nodded and broke into a grin as they entered.

What Jester had done, in simple terms, was re-created New Dawn. She had re-purposed just about every single decoration she and Fjord had bought for the New Year’s Party, and then even brought back a few of the non-reusable elements. The kitchen counter was once again lined with a rainbow tablecloth and a generous heaping of snacks, and confetti once again threatened to make every step on the carpet a glittery death trap. Molly’s living room didn’t have quite the same lighting situation as Jester’s—which was to say that his hanging lamps made balloons a rather dangerous endeavor—so she’d settled instead for taping cheap bouncy-balls to the walls and scattering an army of non-helium balloons across the floor.

She’d also recycled their “Happy New Year” banner. But the original words had been scrawled out with red paint, and now the sentence “Congrats on Coming Back from Being Dead” was crammed along the top.

Caduceus, in the privacy of his own mind, thought that this was rather crass. But Molly’s eyes were absolutely gleaming, so he decided to let it slide.

“My dear,” Molly breathed, “this is absolutely incredible.”

Jester preened. She spun around and gave a bow. “Thank you, thank you! I had some help from Fjord and Nott.”

“And me,” added Caleb, from where he was standing behind the kitchen counter. “I put most of the streamers up.”

Molly laughed. He gently extricated himself from the support team, then flopped down onto the living room sofa. “And you did a _marvelous_ job, dear.” He turned to the others and grandly waved his hands around. “You _all_ did a marvelous job. It’s like a birthday party, but a thousand times better!”

Fjord grinned and cracked open a box of pizza. “We haven’t even gotten to the best part,” he said. “C’mon, everyone, what do you want? Mushrooms? Onions? We have _everything_.”

“Even anchovy,” Beau grimaced. “I think we might’ve gotten carried away.”

“You think?” Caleb raised an eyebrow. “We have an entire box of _pineapple_.”

“There’s nothing wrong with pineapple,” she countered immediately. “It’s a fuckin’ _delicacy_ in some parts of the country.”

“Which parts of our country are full of people who cannot taste?”

Beau stuck her tongue out at him, and he shoved an anchovy into her mouth.

The rest of the gang helped shift a few boxes and paper plates into the living room as Beau had a mild anger-induced fit and chased Caleb around the kitchen. Yasha went to take her usual position in the big armchair, and Caduceus sprawled across the cushion-sea. Fjord and Jester grabbed one end of the sofa, and eventually when Beau stopped trying to kill him and settled instead for sitting on Yasha’s armrest, Caleb slid in next to Molly. Nott perched up on the couch-back behind him, as she always did.

Pizza was distributed along with drinks—Yasha and Nott splitting the meat lover’s pie, Fjord tackling the anchovy on his own, Caleb choosing to partake in plain cheese and Beau eating far much too much pineapple just to prove a point. Jester and Molly took on demolishing what was left.

“Though we should put on a movie while we’re eating!” she announced, a few slices later. “Come on, come on, it’s all we do, right?”

“It’s not _all_ we do,” Nott protested. “Sometimes we go shopping.”

“Sometimes we fight monsters,” Yasha nodded. “Once we fought a strange clockwork creature.”

“And an entire hill giant,” Molly added. “And a weird zombie. That one was pretty bad.”

“Yeah, but we were barely even a team back then,” Fjord pointed out. “ _I_ think the worst one was definitely the tentacle demon.”

“Not a demon,” Caleb said absently. “An aberration.”

“Oh, like that _matters_.”

Caduceus gave this a thoughtful pause. “It probably _does_ matter,” he pointed out. “If it was a demon, right, certain things would hurt it and certain things wouldn’t. It would be important to know.”

“Would it?” Nott raised an eyebrow. “Are we planning on becoming _demon-hunters_ , now?”

“I think he meant that in a purely academic sense,” Caleb began. “And it is a fascinating thought exercise as to—”

“Oh my _gods_ ,” Beau threw her hands into the air. “Gods, all of you, shut _up_! Why can’t we ever do anything without getting distracted?”

She whirled around and pointed a finger at the stack of DVDs on the coffee table. “ _Crash Pandas_!” she announced. “Let’s watch that one! It’s from the same people of Honey Heist, _that’s_ the movie I choose.”

Jester picked up the case. She scanned over the description on the back, and then her face took on a careful smile.

“Are you, um, are you sure?” she sounded hesitant. “This is, um, this is a movie about _car_ racing, right?”

“So?” Fjord munched on his pizza crust. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Nott rolled her eyes. “Molly was just _hit_ by a car. Are you dumb, or what?”

But before Fjord could either protest or apologize, Molly just laughed and shook his head. “No, no, don’t worry at all,” he said. “I’d quite like to see it too! And anyways, maybe those raccoons will have some tips. For next time.”

“No,” said Caleb and Yasha, both at the same time.

“Do not even think about it,” Yasha added gravely.

Molly gave her a weak smile. “Sorry, sorry, just a joke.”

And then, with no further protests, Jester pulled herself up from the couch, made her way over to the DVD player, and started the movie rolling.

\--------------------------------------

“Fuck, that mother _fucker_!” Beau screamed, as a green van veered into the side of the raccoon’s stolen ice cream truck and sent the vehicle teetering dangerously along the edge of the road. “That’s a foul! That’s a _foul_!”

“There’s no rules, there’s no rules!” Jester yelled, over the sound of screeching tires, “Beau, you can’t foul someone without rules!”

“Fuck _that_ , then—yes! Yes, show ‘em who’s boss!”

The gang exploded into cheers as the ice cream truck careened across the finish line with reckless abandon, screeched to a halt just inches away from the referee. Beau was practically up and dancing, swinging Nott around in her arms as the two of them celebrated. Fjord had taken to standing up on the couch cushions, Molly was pumping his fists into the air, even the normally stoic Yasha, the blank-faced Caleb, and the terminally relaxed Caduceus were showing glimmers of excitement and manic glee.

Then the scene shifted into a pan-over of a dusk-covered landfill. And just before the narration could begin, Nott jumped up onto the coffee table and started waving her hands around.

“Hang on, hang on,” she said quickly. “Ten-minute intermission! I need to use the bathroom.”

Beau raised an eyebrow. “You need _ten_ minutes?”

“I figured _you all_ would want a break too,” she scowled. “Sorry for looking out for you, I _guess_.”

“It’s actually a good idea,” Caduceus rumbled. “I can use the time to make some more tea. And to heat up some more pizza.”

The general consensus, after a brief debate, was that a break would be a good idea.

Caleb took this as an opportunity to lean back against the couches and watch the rest of his friends run around, bullying each other in and out of the bathroom and beginning the careful procedure of reheating whole pizzas in the oven (under Caduceus’s watchful supervision).

And after nearly a minute or so of low lighting, and the distant din, Caleb had almost begun to fall asleep.

But then a hand brushed against his arm. He jolted to consciousness and looked around.

Molly was leaning over the back of the couch. His eyes were warm, his expression playful.

“Mister Caleb?” he asked softly. “I think I’d like to get some air. Would you mind helping me onto the balcony?”

Caleb glanced over his shoulder at their friends, who were having a heated debate about the worst possible food toppings. He looked through the windows to the quiet, dimming sky.

“Of course, Mister Mollymauk.” He reached out, and took his hand. “That sounds like a wonderful plan. Let us go.”

\--------------------------------------

They pushed the screen door back together and slowly walked out to the edge, Molly leaning against Caleb for support. Then they draped their forearms over the side of the railing, and stared out over the tall buildings and distant streets. The air this evening was rather crisp, rather clear, and there were no heavy clouds lacing the horizon within sight—only thin trails, wisping where rooftops met the sky.

For a little while, neither of them spoke.

Then Molly breathed out, and gave a faint smile.

“You know, Mister Caleb…it occurs to me that I owe you an apology.”

There was a pause. Then:

“ _What_?”

Molly chuckled softly. “I owe you an apology,” he repeated. “I have for a while, since the last time we were out on a balcony like this.”

Caleb blinked. Confusion raced across his brow. “But…but…Molly, what _for_?”

“For doing the same thing that you did to me,” he sighed. “But you’ve already said your ‘sorry.’ _I_ haven’t apologized, yet, for the way I handled your confession. The one about, ah…about the things that you did in your past. And about…about your parents.”

“Oh.” Strangely, Caleb seemed to relax. “Oh, well… that is fine. Really.”

Molly leaned back. “ _Is_ it? Are you sure?”

“Truthfully?” Caleb gave a small nod. “Yes. I understand, now, why you said what you did. And I think you were just trying to cheer me up, _ja_? So…no harm, no foul, as you say.”

“But there _was_ harm, wasn’t there?” Molly asked.

Caleb hesitated. “Er—"

“ _Mister_ Caleb.”

He sighed. “Alright. Okay. Yes, in that moment, there was. I had been…well, I do not know exactly what I had been expecting. But when you glossed over something so terrible, something that is so crucial to my past, well…that did not sit well with me, at the time. And then you know what happened next.”

His tone, though sad, was still rather light. It seemed to suggest that, after everything else, Caleb could never be wholly mad.

Still, Molly had a job to do.

“I _am_ sorry,” he said firmly. “I am. I handled your story like I handled my own, which is to say, rather irresponsibly. And by now I’ve learned that what works for me, certainly doesn’t work for everyone else. I—I should have listened. I should have asked you what you would have me do. I didn’t want to hurt you, I was trying to make things better, but…I really fucked that one up, eh?”

Caleb chuckled. “Well… _ja_ , perhaps you did. But, then again, Mister Mollymauk, I think it is good that we had that talk. I…I needed you to say those words. Maybe not so forcefully, but…in a small way, it still did help. And it is helping, now, that you did eventually understand.”

Molly snorted at that. “Well, you’re welcome to tell me anything you’d like. And I can’t promise I’ll know exactly what to do, or how to fix things, but…I _can_ promise you that I’ll do whatever you need.”

“You do not have to fix,” Caleb murmured. “I think, with time, I can work at that part. But…maybe, instead, if you just listened? If you, ah, if you helped me figure out what I sometimes say, and how I feel? That…that might help me a lot, in the end.”

Molly nudged Caleb gently in the side. “Alright then, dear. Consider me a pair of ears, and a pretty face.”

Caleb laughed. He shook his head, but not without a smile, and hung his shoulders over the edge of the railing. Molly followed his gaze, out past the quiet rooftops, leaned over the edge just a little farther too.

“I’ve dreamed about this moment, you know,” he sighed. “Ever since the day we met. I dreamed about coming out onto a balcony with you, being by your side, watching the sun set, together.”

Caleb gave a small hum of acknowledgement. “Is it everything you imagined?”

“Everything and more.”

They listened to the far-off sounds of cars rolling. Somewhere, in the distance, smoke wound up from a chimney.

“Is this it, then?” Caleb suddenly asked. “Has it come to an end? Is it…is it over?”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “Is what over?”

“The waiting,” Caleb murmured. “The careful dance. The wondering what it all means, and the trying to figure out how we feel. We, ah…we _know_ the answer now, yes? We…we know that we both care quite…quite deeply, for one another.”

Molly felt his lips curling into a smile. “I would _hope_ so,” he quipped, “if there was any doubt at this point, I’d be seriously wondering about the state of your head.”

Caleb rolled his eyes and poked Molly in the arm. “That is not what I meant,” he huffed. “Come on, now. What are you thinking? What is…what is your take on what comes next?”

Molly’s jewelry shone softly in the light. “Well, dear, I…to be honest,” he sighed, “before, all I wanted was a future where you were happy. Now, I think, I need to make sure that I’ll be happy, too. The thing is…the thing is, I was never happier than when I was with with you.”

He leaned back. The wind rushed through his hair. Then he turned, and peeked one eye at Caleb.

“Tell me, dear, do you think you’ve changed, these last months?”

Caleb was silent for a slight pause. He seemed to be thinking.

“Well…” he said eventually, “well, I…I think I would have to say yes. I am, as I have told you, different, now. I think I am brighter. And…and maybe kinder. Certainly happier than I have been in a long time. And…yes, I think I am even better at magic. Oh, and possibly addicted to sugary coffee. You spoiled me during our first date, Mollymauk, now I cannot drink the dammed stuff the way that I used to.”

“Ha! Good! You need more sweetness in your life. Otherwise what’s it even worth living for?”

Caleb’s head turned slowly towards him. His eyes were soft, and solemn as a vow.

“For love, I think. After everything we have been through, that is the answer I would give.”

Molly felt his heart beginning to flutter. His response died almost immediately on his tongue.

“That…that… _gods_.”

Caleb instantly took a step back. “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, “was that too much? I just thought—I thought maybe—”

But Molly scoffed and shook his head. “Give me your arm.”

Caleb blinked. “What?”

“Your _arm_ ,” he repeated. “Come on, dear, we don’t have all day.”

Slowly, rather bewildered, Caleb extended his arm. Molly took his hand, and then guided it gently around his shoulders.

Then he folded their fingers together. He leaned in against Caleb’s side. Both of them were still standing against the railing, but now their bodies were pressed so closely together.

Spring was still a long way off. But on this night, under a cloudless sky, with the swirling hues of sunset painted across the horizon above, the air felt warmer than it ever had before.

“We have a beautiful home,” Molly sighed. “And I am a very lucky person, Mister Caleb. I am that much luckier to be able to share it, with you.” He glanced down. He bit his lip. “Is, ah…is this okay?”

Caleb’s tongue tripped over itself to answer. “Is—is w—I mean, y—”

Molly chuckled. He smiled playfully. “Try again?”

Caleb nodded. He felt his shoulders slowly begin to relax.

“Yes,” he said. “It is more than okay.”

Together, they drank in a moment of soothing silence.

Then Caleb said, “It has been a long time since I was in love.”

Then Molly said, “I’ve never been in love, before. Not…not like this. Nothing ever like this.”

There was another pause. And then, they both started to laugh.

“We really are quite a pair, are we not?” Caleb managed.

“Of course, dear, of course,” Molly chuckled. “But, er…is that… _is_ that what we are, then? A…a pair?”

“If…that is alright? I…I certainly would like that to be so,” Caleb murmured. “Even despite our…lack of relevant experience.”

Molly snorted. “This isn’t a job interview, this is life. If the tabloids have taught me anything, it’s that experience isn’t what matters.”

“You have been spending too much time with Jester.”

“No such thing.”

Caleb grinned and shook his head. Then he seemed to sober up slightly. He squeezed his hand against Molly’s shoulder, leaned in close and felt the brush of his skin.

“Are you…nervous, at all?” he asked. “About...about what the future holds?”

“Sure,” Molly’s answer came almost instantly. “I mean…of course. But then again, I think that’s only natural. Maybe it’s okay to not know what to expect. Otherwise it wouldn’t be this fun, eh?”

Caleb laughed. The breeze ran gently through both their hair. The sunset, all around them, was fading into quiet night.

“Okay,” Caleb murmured. “Okay. And…and…yes, you know what?”

“What?”

He turned, met Molly’s gaze.

“I would not have it any other way.”

\--------------------------------------

“Are they doing it, yet?” Fjord’s fingers covered his eyes. “How’s it going? Are we…are we gonna have to scrub the balcony, later?”

“ _Shhhh_!” Jester chided. “Come on, shut up, it’s a really tender moment!”

“How tender?” Caduceus asked warily. “Tender like anthurium, or tender like hydrangeas?”

“You’ve _gotta_ understand by now that none of us ever know what you’re talking about,” Beau said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not anything too nasty,” Nott reported. She was crouched along the windowsill next to Jester, similarly peeking through the heavy curtains. “They’re just talking. And…and standing there.”

“That is _it_?” Yasha seemed slightly surprised. “They are not doing anything else?”

“You _guys_ ,” Jester groaned. “You guys, come _on_. It’s taken them literally _months_ to even _talk_ , do you really think they’re going to have sex _already_?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to speed things up,” Beau muttered. “I mean, gods, we haven’t even finished our fucking movie.”

\--------------------------------------

“Hey,” said Caleb, blinking and looking up. “Do you see that? I think it might be a star.”

Molly followed his gaze to the tiny glimmer above them. It was faint, a little unsteady, but it had cut through thousands upon thousands of years of empty space, breaking through the darkness to shine above them now, in the sky.

“So it is.”

Caleb glanced at Molly, and then at the screen door to the apartment, where warm light and distant chatter was leaking out on to the balcony.

“Should we go inside?” he asked softly. “I do not want to keep the others waiting. And we have yet to see if the raccoons win the championship.”

Molly laughed, his charms twinkling gently as he moved. “That’s a fair point, dear. But…maybe, for just a bit…perhaps we could stay here a little longer?”

Their faces stood just inches apart. And framed in the gentle, pale glow of the twilight, their eyes gleamed with longing, and softness, and…something else.

“O—okay,” Caleb whispered. “Okay. A…a little longer. But I do not want…I…I do not want…I want…”

“What is it?” Molly murmured. “Ask, and it’s yours. What is it that you want, dear Mister Caleb?”

And as the sun set slowly, as night fluttered in on the wings of a firefly, as the street lamps far, far below bloomed to life, as the moon caught the glow off the rooftops in the breeze, in that moment, at that second, whoever might’ve been listening, wouldn’t have heard the answer.

But it was soft. And gentle. And warm, and full of love.

“Just a little longer,” Caleb breathed again.

And for a little while longer they stayed, tracing the lines of each other’s faces, feeling the brush of their fingers against their cheeks, lips pressed together in the dusk, up on the balcony, over the flickering, dancing, city lights below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, _thank you_ for reading. The next update, gang, is gonna be the last. Strap in. This is the home stretch, and I couldn't have asked for a better audience  <3
> 
>  
> 
> (In the meantime, you can find me as [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Stay wonderful. I'll see y'all soon.)


	37. Something New for Me and You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: the end.

Moving on means accepting something new, but it doesn’t always mean letting go of the old.

After all, your life can still change even when most things stay the same. What happened before doesn’t have to define today, but you also don’t have to leave it behind. It’s okay to remember. It’s okay to hang on. Besides, what would be the point of growing if not for who you used to be?

There are different ways to honor your past. There are different ways to carry it with you. And sometimes that means understanding where you came from, and sometimes that means stepping back, going home.

\--------------------------------------

“Apparently she’s some kind of anthropologist,” said Fjord. “Pretty young, but also well-known for her work. Her specialty is Nautical History and Archaeology, too, so I really think she might be my best shot.”

“ _Our_ best shot,” Jester called from the living room. She was sitting on the couch, already in her pajamas, gently stroking Nugget by the fire.

“ _Our_ best shot,” Fjord corrected. Then he scrolled down on his computer screen and added, “I can’t find her email, but she does have an address. And I’m not exactly sure how easy it’ll be to get an audience, but it says here that she’s based out of a university in Nicodranas—”

“ _Nicodranas_?!” Jester took a sharp breath. “Wait, wait, you mean… _my_ Nicodranas?”

“That would be the one.”

She went quiet for a moment. “Gosh, that’s…oh. Oh, _boy_.”

“Yeah,” Fjord sighed. He looked a bit dejected. “It’s…it’s not ideal, I know. And I also know you’re not really allowed back in, but…at the same time, I wouldn’t go without you. Though—we don’t _have_ to go, Jes. Whatever my shit is, it’s more important that you’re safe—"

“ _Actually_ ,” she cut him off. “Actually, _about_ that, um…I’ve actually been talking to the Traveler a bit. And you know how I can do a bunch of really cool magic, and you know how I’ve been working on finishing up Yasha’s living papers?”

“Er…yeah?”

“We- _ell_ , there might be something I can do,” she said. “About the whole ‘being exiled’ thing. It…it _could_ be risky, but I’ve learned to change my shape, a bit. And if it goes _really_ bad, I’ve also…sort of learned to teleport? Plus, I don’t think the border check would be _too_ bad, since the Empire is good friends with Nicodranas. We probably wouldn’t be under too much suspicion to start with.”

There was a brief pause, then Fjord’s eyes went wide.

“You mean—”

Jester grinned. She lifted Nugget into the air.

“How about it, Nuggy-wuggy? Want to see where your momma and dad came from? Want to come with us to the beach?”

He barked excitedly in response. Fjord’s mouth curved into a grin.

“Wow,” he breathed. “That’s…that’s _amazing_ , Jes.”

She laughed and scratched Nugget behind the ears. “It’s not _that_ impressive. Although—oh, _oh,_ man, can we ask the others to come, too? Do you think they’d want to? Do you think they can?”

“I’m sure with enough warnin’, they could arrange something. I guess it depends on when we plan to leave.”

“ _Tomorrow_.”

Fjord chuckled and raised his hands. “Well, hold your horses.” He did some mental math. “We’ve still got classes, after all, and now you’ve got to forge _two_ sets of documents.”

“I’m just really excited!” she said. “I can’t _wait_ to see my Momma again! And—oh my _gods_ —and introduce her to you! And the others! Oh my gods, I can’t _wait_.”

“It’ll be like a mini-vacation,” Fjord chuckled. “Gods know we need one, after the crazy months we’ve had.”

“Absolutely,” she nodded. “Now, give me an estimate! At least I know when to look forward to!”

Fjord scratched his head. He considered this carefully.

“How about…how about the start of summer break? It’ll give the folks with jobs long enough to ask for time off, and it’ll just be warming up along the coast, too.”

Jester’s smile could barely contain her delight. “Summer break!” she shouted to the sky. “Alright then, alright! Oh, _man,_ this is going to be _amazing_.”

Then she scooped up Nugget and walked into the kitchen, plopped down next to Fjord at the bar.”

“It’ll be so nice to be able to go back. I love it here,” she murmured, “but I miss home, you know?”

“I know how you feel,” he nodded, with a sigh. But then his face brightened, and he slid an arm around Jester’s shoulders. “But _this’ll_ be great! And even better, ‘cause we’ll be together. Right, Gwen?”

She giggled. “Of _course_ we will, Oskar.”

Nugget squirmed his way onto the counter, and licked at both their grinning faces.

\--------------------------------------

Sometimes it means sharing the things that you knew.

\--------------------------------------

“My sister was really the best at this,” Caduceus said as he watched Molly pummel a loaf of bread. “I think it was because of her pent-up aggression, but Mother, if it didn’t taste just divine.”

Molly laughed, and tried to peel some dough off his hands. “She sounds like a real treat, dear. Is she also the one who gave you that funky knee?”

“Yup. The very same.”

“You should introduce her to Beau. Gods, I bet they’d get along famously.”

Caduceus kneaded a fold into his dough. “I never even considered that,” he grinned. “Maybe, one day, I’ll get her to come here. I’m sure my whole family would love to meet you all.”

“Well, I’d certainly love to meet them! Especially if their hugs are anything like yours.” Molly flipped his loaf around and gave it a gentle prod. “Do they have any plans to visit you, soon? Or are you planning on going back home?”

“Probably,” Caduceus nodded. “At the latest, I’ll go back for Wild’s Grandeur. But I also want to earn a bit more beforehand, just so I have something to show them when I do.”

“I think they’d be delighted regardless,” Molly said. “How’s the tea empire coming along, anyways?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Caduceus gave a small smile. “I’ve managed to sell quite a bit through Nila, and Pumat said he’d get me in touch with some of his friends. Apparently wizards really like tea, and apparently they’d pay a lot for custom blends.”

“ _What_?! That’s amazing!” Molly scattered some flour as if it were confetti. “That’s incredible! Give your wizard a _kiss_ , dear!”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Caduceus chuckled, “though I’m not really sure that kind of thing’s for me.”

“I have tips, just in case,” Molly nodded. “Otherwise, of course, no pressure.”

Caduceus rolled his dough around on the counter. “How is _your_ wizard?” he asked politely. “Have you two been having fun, together?”

Molly felt a smile creeping across his face. “Absolutely,” he chuckled, “though we’re taking things quite slow. It’s not nearly as fast as I’m used to, but for some reason it still feels like a whirlwind.”

“The good kind?”

“The _best_ kind,” Molly laughed. “It reminds me of a song that Desmond taught us, long ago. It’s about two people who fall in love by the sea.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Caduceus said. “I’d sure love to hear it, someday.”

“I’ll sing it for you now!” Molly declared. “That way, dear, you can learn it too!”

\--------------------------------------

Sometimes it means building back on what you’ve lost.

\--------------------------------------

“I don’t know if you should,” said Nott, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look _bad_ , but you already have so much brown. You can’t possibly keep it all.”

“I like this sweater, though,” Caleb pouted. “I distinctly remember wearing it at least once.”

“Did you wear it at least twice?”

“I…okay, I will put it on the ‘maybe’ pile.”

Nott shook her head and held out their donation box. “Throw it in,” she said sternly. “We’re almost halfway through your closet, and it’s still mostly my stuff in here.”

Caleb sighed dramatically, but complied without further complaint.

“I do not know how you were so efficient,” he said, examining a t-shirt from the heap on his bed. “I thought you did not like parting with things.”

“I don’t,” Nott shrugged, “but cleaning is an important part of collecting. After a while, you just get used to it.”

“It gets easier, you mean?”

“Definitely not. It sucks to say goodbye,” and here she rustled the contents of their cardboard box. “But, then again, it gives you space to collect more. Like how now, I have plenty of room for what comes next.”

“You are quite the expert, eh?” Caleb folded his shirt and set it aside. “You certainly sound well-versed.”

“Sure!” Nott grinned. “Stick with me, now, and I’ll show you my skills.”

Caleb gave a laugh, and picked up another jacket. “Of course, o learnéd one. I am eager to see what wisdom you will impart.” Then, he added, “It _has_ been rather nice, though. To see your collections grow, I mean. I am still sorry about the things you had to leave behind. When you fled your clan, and while the two of us moved around.”

He wasn’t paying attention, so he missed it when Nott’s smile faded slightly. “It’s okay,” she answered softly. “I’m used to it, now. It’s probably just my curse, to keep losing things.”

“Well, that hardly sounds okay,” Caleb hummed absently. “You should not have to be sad, like that. Nobody should, even if it is just about objects.”

Nott’s gaze fell to her hands. “Right,” she murmured. “Objects.”

There was a stretch of silence, after that. Not exactly awkward, but certainly less comforting.

Then Nott spoke again. Her voice, a slow waver.

“His name was Yeza, you know. Yeza Brenatto. He was an alchemist from Felderwin.”

Caleb blinked. He immediately looked up. “He is…this is the halfling that the goblins captured, yes? The one that you were very close with?”

“I’d like to think I still am,” she sighed. “I’d like to think that when I finally get back, when I…when I finish what I need to finish, then, maybe, things can go back to the way they were.”

“The way they were?”

“Soft,” she said. “And happy. And…warm.”

Caleb was quiet. He stared at jacket in his hands, soft brown cloth lined with faded, tattered fleece.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh. I am…sorry, Nott.”

She gave another sigh. “It’s okay. Its…don’t…don’t worry, about that.”

“But I _will_ , though,” Caleb protested instantly. “I will worry, because this is important to you. And your happiness is important to _me_. I…I want to do everything that I can to help. I will _keep_ doing everything that I can to help. I…I know what it is like to lose everything,” he added quietly. “And you where there for me, when I did. Now I want to be there for you.”

He leaned down, put a hand on her shoulder.

“You are my family, Nott. This is what we are for.”

A very small smile crept slowly across her face. She breathed out a chuckle, looked up, met his eyes.

“Thanks, Caleb.”

He nodded ferociously.

Then Nott stood up, climbed onto the bed, and gently pressed their foreheads together.

“You too,” she said. “You’re my family too.”

\--------------------------------------

And sometimes it means remembering the people that you loved.

\--------------------------------------

Yasha was sitting cross-legged on the couch, watching the weather channel when Beau wandered in. She was wearing her pajamas, wrapped in a blue blanket, that trailed along the ground and swept the hall as she entered. Yasha fondly watched her parade around for a bit, before turning her attention back to the report.

Behind her, Beau entered the kitchen and stared out longingly through the window by the balcony.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” she called over her shoulder. “I almost sort of miss him.”

“He probably will,” Yasha grunted. “When the weather gets cold, or when he gets hungry, he will return and tap again on the glass.”

“We still need to call someone to get that fixed.”

“I sent Jester a text. She says she can come around lunch.”

Beau made her way into the living room and draped herself over the back of the couch. “Then I guess I’ll run down to the bakery, tomorrow. To get some pastries, before she gets here.”

“Is that considered payment?”

“For Jes, it’s better than gold.” Then Beau grinned and lifted her blanket over her head. “Man, do you remember when we were _roommates_?” she asked. “It feels like a fuckin’ thousand years ago. Sometimes…well, it feels just like yesterday.”

“Do you miss her?” Yasha hummed.

Beau gave a chuckle. “She’s my best friend. Well, one of them, anyways. You know, uh…yeah, gods, back when we first met, I…I used to think that maybe, one day, we would’ve gotten together.”

Yasha seemed genuinely surprised. She lowered the volume on the TV.

“ _Really_?”

“Yup.” Beau pressed her chin into the couch. “Guess that didn’t happen, huh?”

Yasha just blinked a few times. It looked like she was trying to figure out what to say.

“You…are you sad?” she settled on eventually. “Are you…do you regret that, not happening?”

“Well, I _guess_ ,” Beau said lightly. “Yeah, I mean…yeah. At first, it was pretty hard. Jester’s my best friend, and _Fjord’s_ my best friend, too. Can you imagine what it was like when they fell in love?” She laughed. “And—gods—both of them kept roping me into all sorts of schemes, to try and find out if the other felt the same, and then to get into cutesy situations where they could confess. And what was I gonna do, right? Try and prevent that? _Hell_ no. You’ve seen how happy they make each other. I’m a fuckwad, but could never mess with that.”

Yasha was quiet for a second. Then she said, “You are not _really_ a fuckwad.”

“You should see me drunk.”

“I have.”

“Oh.”

Yasha poked Beau in the shoulder. “I still remember when they first started dating. It was very nice. I did not know you so well, back then. But I am proud of you, today, for being the kind of person who would let that happen.”

“Thanks, Yash.”

“And I am sorry,” she continued. “Truly. I am sorry for what you went through, and I am sorry for what you could have had.”

“It’s alright,” Beau shrugged. Her smile wasn’t strong, but it was there. “I got better.”

Yasha chuckled. “I see. You are happier, now?”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Beau leaned down, gave a nod.

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

They were quiet for a few moments after that, basking in the warmth of one another’s company. Then Beau straightened up, and walked around the sofa to take a seat in the armchair by Yasha.

“I, uh, actually, there’s something I’ve to wanted ask you,” she said. “Something…kind of important, I think.”

Yasha raised her eyebrows. “Oh,” she blinked. “Oh, ah…okay, go for it.”

Beau twisted at the edges of her blanket. “It’s, um, it’s kind of dumb, but…I was thinking about what you told me the other night. About…about your wife. Not—oh, gods, not that _she’s_ dumb—my _idea’s_ dumb, _I’m_ the dumb one—”

Yasha raised her hands.

“It is okay. I understand.”

Beau ran a hand through her hair. “Sorry,” she said. “Sorry. But, uh…yeah. About that. It’s…look, there’s this thing that my family does, right? And _I_ always thought it was stupid because I didn’t really give a fuck, but…it’s sort of like an old tradition, or a holiday, or something. Not really from the Empire, from somewhere far away, I think. And it’s not for a while, it doesn’t happen until after spring starts, but, uh…basically, right, basically, we go to honor our ancestors and shit by visiting their graves and leaving offerings. Like…food, and stuff, and we burn this sort of paper, I think? Fuck, I wish I had paid more attention, now. But, uh…yeah, there’s some kind of paper we gotta burn. And sticks, I think. I—gods,” she chuckled nervously. “Sorry, sorry, I’m rambling now.”

“It is alright,” Yasha said softly. “It is okay. Just keep going.”

“Thanks,” Beau sighed. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders. “Anyways, uh… _anyways_ , I know it’s probably not what your tribe did, and the holiday isn’t even that important to _me_ , ‘cause, well, ‘cause you know that family’s kind of a sore subject. But I was thinking…I was _thinking_ , that when it comes around…maybe you and I could celebrate it together? Just…just not for my family. For…yours. For Zuala. To honor her memory, and what she means to you.”

For a long, long time afterwards, Yasha just said nothing. The muted droning of the television behind them leaked out into the silence and wound gently around the room.

Then she blinked. She blinked again. She reached up, and felt a dampness spreading from the corners of her eyes.

Beau panicked.

“Oh—oh, gods, _fuck_ ,” she said, moving to stand, “ _gods_ , I’m sorry, I—I shouldn’t have brought it up, I—”

Yasha raised a hand. When Beau flinched, she quickly dropped it.

And that, above everything else, was what helped her find her voice.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Just…wait. I…I was just surprised is all. I, ah…”

She gave gentle sigh. As slowly as she could, motioned for Beau to sit.

“It is a very good idea,” she said. “Truly. I am…glad that you brought it to me.”

Beau flopped back down. “I sense a ‘but’ coming,” she sighed.

“But,” Yasha agreed, “but, we cannot. Though that is only for the reason that as far as I am aware, Zuala does not have a grave.”

Silence.

Then:

“Oh.”

“Yes. I…I know. I had wanted to give her one,” Yasha murmured, “but…I could not, at the time. I still wish, today, that had. I…she loved flowers. There was a rare few on the moors, and…I had thought…well. I still _want_ to bring her some, one day. Somehow. There are so many in your Empire. There are so many, and she would have loved to see them.”

She studied Beau’s expression.

“Are you…okay? Are you upset that part of me still loves her?”

Beau instantly snorted. “Gods, Yasha, gods, no _way._ She—she was your _wife,_ I’d be _more_ worried if you _didn’t_!”

“But I am still afraid that could hurt you,” Yasha said. “I want you to know…I _need_ you to know, that…that…”

“It’s okay,” Beau shook her head. “It’s alright. I’m used to being the second choice, and I know it’s hard for you to—”

“No!” Yasha’s voice took on a sudden ferocity. “No, no, you are _never_ a second choice, _never_ think of yourself that way. Beauregard…Beauregard, I love you. And not with just a part of me. With—with everything. With all that I have had, and all I think I ever will. Even…even the part of me that loves Zuala. That part has grown to love you, too.”

This was followed by another pause.

Another waiting, beating, breath of silence. Then:

“…do you _mean_ that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Beau’s gaze fell to the floor. Yasha leaned back, her own cheeks blazing.

“I, um…sorry,” she said. “If that was too much. I…I needed to say it, though. And all of it was true.”

Beau’s voice was very soft. It usual edge was a lifetime ago.

“I, um…” She paused to wipe her eyes. “Nobody…nobody’s really said that to me, before.”

She looked up.

“Thanks.”

Yasha slowly took her hand.

“No,” she murmured. “Thank _you_.”

There was one final pause, as Beau’s breathing evened out. Then she sniffled, and gave Yasha a quiet smile.

“I’ve just had an idea.”

Yasha raised an eyebrow.

“A pretty _good_ idea,” Beau added. “ _I_ think so, anyways.”

Yasha’s lips quirked upwards. “Okay then,” she nodded. “Okay. Let us hear it.”

“You said that Zuala liked flowers, right?”

“Right.”

“And you said that, uh…that you didn’t have a place where you could go to remember her?”

“This is also true.”

“Well…well…” Beau scratched the back of her neck. “Well, why don’t we _make_ a place, then? In…in our house. We can…dry some flowers and make a wreath, or something. I know it’s…I know it’s _definitely_ not the same as being able to, um, to have a grave, but…maybe…just for now, it could be something small? Something that you can hold close in your new home.”

Yasha was silent as she considered this. Then she slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Are you…are you sure?”

“Uh… _I_ suggested it, Yash.”

She chuckled, and shook her head.

“I _meant_ , are you sure you are comfortable with this? Having a reminder of her in our home.”

“I don’t see why not,” Beau shrugged. “After all, me and Zuala have something in common, right?”

Yasha blinked in surprise. “You _both_ like flowers?”

Beau laughed, took her hand.

“Close,” she said. “We both love _you_.”

\--------------------------------------

In the end, the days go on. The future creeps in like the moon through the clouds. And the way forward, the path ahead, the road that leads to what comes next, begins with all that you had in the past.

It continues when you decide to take on something new.

But don’t worry.

It’s not as scary as you’d think.

\--------------------------------------

Today | 3:29PM

 **Molly Tealeaf:** are you ready, Mister Caleb?  
**Caleb Widogast:** I believe I am, Mister Mollymauk  
**Caleb Widogast:** wait wait hang on  
**Caleb Widogast:** should you really be texting me right now?  
**Caleb Widogast:** should you not be getting ready  
**Molly Tealeaf:** ha! my dear, this IS how I get ready  
**Caleb Widogast:** by using your phone?  
**Molly Tealeaf:** by talking to you <3  
**Molly Tealeaf:** but actually, im coming out right now  
**Molly Tealeaf:** get ready!!!!  
**Molly Tealeaf:** the show starts in 3  
**Molly Tealeaf:** 2

The curtains blew open. Gustav beamed and spread his arms.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, now presenting, the Jewel of the Moondrop, the Peacock of the South, my friend and yours, the incredible, wonderful, amazingly talented, Mister Mollymauk Tealeaf!”

A brilliant figure twirled onstage. His necklaces and jewelry jangled as he spun, a dazzling smile glowing across his face. There was an excitement to his movements and a spring in his stride showed just how far his recovery had come. Over his fancy blouse and garishly-colored pants, he wore scarlet coat that was almost brand-new, decorated only at the edges with ornate flourishes. Molly had lost his old show-coat to the accident, after all, and he hadn’t had much time to work on this one.

Strangely, though, as he strode confidently to center-stage, the fact that this jacket was rather empty, instead of being somber, held the glimmers of hope. As it swayed with the spotlight and ruffled out behind him, it seemed to convey, above all else, that all the bare patches really were, were promises of what was soon to come. That if given time—and plenty of thread—Molly would be able to create something, something even more beautiful than before.

He gave a quick bow, and plucked the microphone from its stand. It wasn’t actually connected to any speakers, yet, and for now the gesture was just part of a good show.

He gazed out across the hall. He remembered dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of moments like these, where he’d looked upon an enormous audience, and given them all a charming wink.

But this afternoon—amid the background noises of construction, the sheets of black tarp tacked up across the walls, the various workers and volunteers running around working intense repairs—there was really only one person here to see a show.

His name was Caleb Widogast. He sat in a lone folding chair. His brow was raised with amused endearment, and his phone was out, on and still in his hands.

Molly grinned. He gave a very dramatic bow.

“Please remember to silence all your electronics for the duration of the performance,” he announced. “The Moondrop appreciates your lovely patronage, and hopes that you have a delightful evening. Er—afternoon,” he amended smoothly.

Then he straightened up. He lowered the mic. He sat down at the edge of the stage, met Caleb’s eyes.

“I’ve, ah, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me,” he said softly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what we said. And it’s true, that you’re out of practice, it’s true, I’ve got no experience. But I think…I think that’s okay. That’s always been okay. And if _you’ve_ taught me anything, my dear, it’s that even when it feels like there’s nowhere to run, even when it feels like you’re out of places to go, as long as you have people— _the_ people, that you love—as stupid as it sounds, in the end, it’ll be okay. All you have to do, really, is keep going. That way, there can always be another chapter. And, one day, you’ll find yourself where you always wanted to be.

“Today, I can say that I’m where _I_ want to be. In the Moondrop. In…well, my first home. Somewhere old. But today, dear, today is rather special. Because now, I’m also doing something new. For…for me, and for you. Something that I’ve always wanted to do.”

He reached into his jacket, and produced a sheet of paper.

“Now, you’ll have to forgive me,” he grinned. “It’s been a while since I’ve sung seriously, and I’ve never really practiced opera, before. But you spent the last few days performing for me, so I think it’s my turn to repay the favor. This song is called ‘ _In des Lebens Frühlingstag_.’ Or, as they say in Common, ‘In the Spring of Life.’”

He held out the music. He gave a playful wink.

“My dear Mister Caleb, I think you might know it.”

\--------------------------------------

Then came a laugh, as bright as the stars.

“My dear Mister Mollymauk, you _know_ that I do.”

\--------------------------------------

When you picture this scene, picture it framed in warm light.

How does it feel? What do you see? You’ll want to pay attention. That way, you might notice, that hiding in the background, their friends are sharing this moment too. Yasha’s moving heavy equipment in the back, and Gustav, by the stage, is hiding a wide smile. Desmond’s controlling musical instruments behind the curtain, and Jester’s been called in to help paint the walls. Beau is working with Fjord on new posters, and most of the troupe have already returned home. Caduceus is with Nott in the kitchen right now, making them tea and searching for biscuits.

And, of course, there’s Molly on stage. There’s Caleb, finally, getting the concert he was promised. Both of them are basking in this chapter of their lives, in this moment they’d always dreamed of, with the people that they love.

And even though wires hang from the ceiling like vines, though the heating’s still broken and only half the lights work, despite all that, on this soft winter day, Molly's voice still rings out bright. His eyes are shining, his soul is alive. And Caleb’s there too, watching, grinning like an idiot, the warmth in his heart lighter than any flame, or any spark.

Look at them. Are you watching? Is it everything you’d imagined?

This is the moment where it all comes to an end.

That’s the only way the next chapter can begin.

Now picture the scene pulling back, drawing closed.

Picture it fading with a final, gentle song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
>  There's still an epilogue left, but I hope y’all will bear with me for a moment for some last words.
> 
> When I first started writing this story, based off the spur-of-the-moment one-shot I wrote about [ a silly double dinner date ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901915), I could never _ever_ have imagined how far it would come. But, here we are. 10 months and 226,719 words later, together (almost!) at the end.
> 
> Of course, of course, it’s time for thanks. If it wasn’t for your readership, your constant support, your tear-wrenching comments and genuinely incredible friendship, I don’t think I ever could have seen through such a long and heartfelt ordeal. Something New, after all, isn’t just a love story—it’s a love letter to the CR cast for making such wonderful characters, and a love letter to you guys for being such amazing people. Yes, you!
> 
> Still, I want to give a special shout-out to quite a lot of people. Firstly to @mochagabe, @volar-finch, @riahawk, and @doctorofhope-teamtardis, and later on @febo-asoma, for always being there in my DMs to scream at me about CR and Something New. This community wouldn’t be the same for me without y’all, and I love every one of you very dearly!
> 
> And of COURSE, an insane shoutout to Kal (@sameshork), for spoiling me absolutely rotten with some of the most amazing art I’ve ever seen in my life. My buddy, my pal, [ you’ve illustrated eight chapters ](https://sameshork.tumblr.com/tagged/something-new-for-me-and-you) and left some of the most genuinely beautiful comments I’ve ever read in my whole life. I’m so happy that we’ve become friends, and I hope one day I can truly express how much that means to me!
> 
> Speaking of art, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you @nonsycamore and @ravenspaladin!! Your illustrations of Caleb’s balcony scene in Ch. 34 ([here](https://nonsycamore.tumblr.com/post/182620830522/caleb-widogast-stood-alone-in-the-night), and [here](https://ravenspaladin.tumblr.com/post/182665096043/caleb-widogast-stood-alone-in-the-night)) made me realize how much of a monster I am, and also made me cry because they were so fucking amazing. I love you both, and just… _thank you._
> 
> Also, thank you thank you thank you to @naughtbutstars, for your amazing fantasy!german help!! Now that the story’s over, I’m going to do a final read-through and edit before giving Something New up to the ether, and your long long list of edits are finally going to make an appearance. @codesculptor, you’re also up on the thank yous, for sending me the typos I’ve made in every chapter, without fail, as a bit of an honorary post-production beta <3
> 
> And finally, finally, thank you to—and please please forgive me forgive me if I’ve missed any names—these wonderful people: alatarmaia4, analisegrey, AndSoTheUniverseEnded, blue_daffodil, caduceus-tealeaf-derolo, chess_blackfyre, Dr_WhoSuperLockHobbitVulcan, fangirlsftw, feyfrumpkin, frozenseas, Gerbilfriend, goldtintedskies, iArgent, iwaiumizumi, JackIronsides, Kepler_16b, LeanMeanSaltineMachine, LilBittyMonster, loudn, Mangledliam, meridas, mikkeneko, mistysteps, olivoil, Ophelia_L, pinfeatherscrow, RecklessDaydreamer, RoseTheScribesilkmouse, Rudis, silkmouse, Sir_Aedan, steelneena, tangereen, thewolvesrunwild, Tommy, tontonberry, torp, trashygaymeme, ValkyrieOfBerk, WillowWilt, wingedmoonchild, and wolfe_child, for becoming essentially permanent fixtures in my inbox/tumblr notifications, some of y’all since the beginning. I hope you guys know that I read and respond to every single comment that comes my way, and they have meant the absolute world to me as I progressed through this story, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts after I post every single chapter. Your interactions have even inspired me to keep making more content, and led to the [Something New playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6uYOkc9WvN5Oc57UCQL1KL) and a WHOLE bunch of deleted scenes and notes I’ll soon post to my tumblr (it’s a 43-page word doc. get ready). A lot of us don’t have the privilege I do of having readers so dedicated to commenting on or reblogging pretty much every chapter, and I want you to know that the writing of this fic, every single twist and turn and moment, all leading up to this final conclusion, has been—in a very large part—because of you. Because of every time you’ve thanked me, screamed at me, jokingly threatened me, or shared your experiences as you listened to me ramble. And I know this that these end notes are getting quite long, so I’ll just simply leave it here:
> 
> Something New is a love story. It’s a found family story. It’s a story about friendship, and suffering, and joy. It’s a story I wrote for the people in my life. You guys, all of you guys reading right now, are those people.
> 
> Thank you.


	38. Epilogue: The Sea along the Horizon

On the 19th of Thunsheer, a spring day showing summer’s promise, the Mighty Nein gathered out in the street along their van. It was an old Volkswagen camper, painted pale teal around the sides, with a few strange additions that had been made over the years.

Caduceus and Fjord were in the back right now, doing their damndest to reverse the biggest one.

“I just don’t see why it looks like this,” Fjord grumbled as he fiddled with the mechanism on the platform. “I mean, it’s  _already_ a hippie-car. What’s the point of painting flowers where the coffin goes?”

“The point,” sighed Caduceus, from his awkward position over the rear seats, “is that people who want natural burials tend to expect things. And one of those things, is a certain aesthetic.”

“But don’t you cover everything with real flowers?” asked Beau. She was poking her face through one of the back windows, trying to get a better look inside. “I always figured that would be more than enough.”

“It’s never enough.” Caduceus pulled free another latch. “My parents didn’t think so, anyways.”

“I wonder what they’d be thinking now,” Molly grinned. He standing near the curb with Jester, helping her check and re-check their supplies. “We  _are_  taking apart their precious hearse. For a  _road_  trip.”

“Yes, but I’ll put it back when we’re done,” Caduceus said. Then he looked up and added, “Mister Fjord, try shifting it now. I think it should come loose.”

Fjord carefully retreated through the trunk, hopping down from the ledge and stretching his shoulders in the open. Then he reached his hands back inside, and bracing himself thoroughly, gripped the handle, and  _yanked_.

It did not budge. He yanked even harder.

“I think it’s stuck or something,” he called. “I can’t get it to—”

He was suddenly cut off as a large muscled arm gently pushed him out of the way.

“Here, let me,” Yasha said. “You are not very strong.”

“Not very— _hey_ —”

She planted her feet solidly on the ground. Her biceps glimmered in the soft morning light, and with but a careful sigh and the barest twitch of her cheek, she took a step back and slid the platform smoothly free. It half-clattered down onto the ground, half-stuck out from back of the trunk, but it now was surely loose.

“Hot,” said Beau.

“Thanks a bunch,” Caduceus grinned from within the car. “If you wouldn’t mind moving that to the apartment, you can just leave it in the kitchen until we get back.”

“’l’ll help you, Yasha!” Jester said. “Here, Fjord, you take over my job. It’s more suited to you, anyways.”

“Hey, what’s  _that_  supposed to—”

Caleb put a hand on his shoulder. “Best to stop fighting back,” he said. “Just accept it. It is part of your charm.”

“Plus, girls  _like_ sensitivity,” Nott added. “Keep playing the weak half-orc. They’ll be all over you.”

Fjord made a sort of strangled noise with his throat. He threw his hands into the air, and yelled at the sky.

“He gets like that sometimes,” Jester shrugged. “Hey, can you guys get Nugget into the crate, while I’m gone? He should respond if you tell him to ‘poof ho—'”

There was a sudden burst of contracting air, then another tiny explosion as Nugget complied. His waggling tail swished around within the bars. He’d grown significantly in these last few months, and this was already his third crate-upgrade. One of the old ones was being used to store toys. Fjord had put some model ships into the other.

“ _Good_  puppy,” Jester gushed. “Good, good puppy! Now stay there, until I get back.”

Nugget barked, which was probably a “yes.”

“Gods, I wish that was the Professor,” Beau sighed. “I haven’t seen him since Misuthar.”

“He is probably off enjoying the warming air,” Yasha reassured her as she and Jester walked away. “He will be back by the time we are home.”

“When is that again?” Molly asked. “Two weeks, or so?”

“Probably even longer than that,” Caleb sighed. He was holding three maps in his hands. “It will take us at least five days to get there, four if we are letting Jester drive.”

“We aren’t,” Fjord yelled from inside the car. “I love her, but I also love being alive.”

“Five, then,” Caleb amended. “And, of course, five more to get back. Not to mention whatever time we will be spending along the coast, trying to get the attention of this…anthropologist person. I hope you all did listen to me when I said to take care of outstanding business.”

“I did,” Caduceus chuckled. “Nila is handling sales for a while, and Susan said she would water my plants.”

“Susan?” Nott asked.

“Our neighbor,” he supplied. “I think she’s trustworthy.”

“I don’t like her,” Molly sighed, “but I suppose in a pinch, she works.” Then he turned to Caleb and said, “Don’t worry, dear. Gustav and Desmond know I’ll be gone, and I promised them I’d practice for the return concert on the road. As for my  _other_ business,” he winked, “well, I think that’ll go just fine.”

“Gross,” said Beau, before Caleb could respond. “I’m going into the car. Let me know when you’re done being nasty.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Molly laughed and waved his arms. “Hang on, I need your help moving bags! The strong ones have all left.”

“I’m still here,” grumbled Fjord through the window.

“And me,” added Nott.

“And me,” said Caduceus.

“Your other business will focus on the GPS,” Caleb said, almost neutrally. “To spare you all from my suffering.”

Molly blew him a cheerful kiss, and then pointed to the others in the car. "Tall One, Small One, Middle One, get out here! Let’s go, there's no time to lose!”

They managed to load most of the bags into the trunk by the time Jester and Yasha returned. And with their help, the luggage was packed, supplies put into place, Nugget and his crate positioned by Jester’s seat in the second row. Then Beau slid in next to her, and Nott took her other side. Fjord and Molly, the original roommate team, sat at the back with Yasha for the first round of driving. Caleb was at the front, navigation systems readied, and Caduceus, the designated first driver, calmly took his seat and turned back around to face his friends.

“Everybody ready?” he asked pleasantly. “Do we have all our things? Any last business?”

“Did you all use the bathroom?” Nott demanded.

There was a chorus of “yes’s.” Then Yasha raised her hand.

“Actually, I just had a thought,” she said. “Will the authorities mind that I have a sword? Or will it matter that Beau has brought her staff?”

“I think I might have diplomatic immunity,” said Beau. “Maybe I can claim that it’s mine?”

“Can you also say that for my prop scimitars?” Molly added. “I brought them just in case.”

Fjord pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t even question it.

“Let’s just deal with that later,” he said. “I’m sure they’ll come in handy, knowing us.”

“Do you three think we’ll have to  _fight_ stuff, on the coast?” Jester asked.

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Did you think we were going to at the Moondrop’s anniversary?”

She considered this.

“Maybe I should buy an axe, or something."

“I’ll show you how to use a crossbow,” said Nott. “It’s really intuitive, there’s nothing to it.”

“There’s probably wood,” rumbled Caduceus. “Probably some metal.”

“I hate this family,” said Beau impatiently. “Can we just get going, already? I know we’ve got five days to go, but one more second in this car and I’ll  _die_.”

“Alright, alright, just settle down,” Caduceus chuckled. “I’m turning the ignition in three…two…one—”

And as the engine roared to life and the music came on, as they all started bullying each other for control of the AUX, as Caleb finished plotting the route of their voyage, as Fjord did his best to fall asleep against the window, as Molly did his best to prevent that from happening, as Beau prepared an arsenal of games like “My Cow” and “Count the Red Cars,” as Jester whipped out some pastries and Yasha opened up a book, as Nott took a video of all of them, all at once, Caduceus shifted the van into drive and under the bright, crisp, cloudless spring sky, he guided his friends down the quiet city streets and onto the road that would lead to Nicodranas.

Together.

As friends, as family, as the Mighty Nein, off towards their next adventure.


End file.
